


The Funeral

by Rachel Wilder (rwilder), shelbecat



Series: Reunion [4]
Category: Friday Night Lights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-08
Updated: 2008-06-17
Packaged: 2018-03-16 12:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3488267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rwilder/pseuds/Rachel%20Wilder, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shelbecat/pseuds/shelbecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuing from <i>Reunion</i> and <i>The Wedding</i>, we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach <i>The Funeral</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to our special guest beta, you know who you are.

**Title** : The Funeral: Chapter 1  
**Authors** : [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)**rachel_wilder**  
**Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
**Summary** : Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**The Funeral  
Chapter 1**

_September 2019_

Dr. Haynes leaned forward across his desk, the file open in front of him.

"Things look good, Lyla," he said, glancing down the paperwork in the file. "I feel confident we can help you have a baby."

Lyla turned to look at Jason and smiled. She tightened her hand around his.

"Now, Jason," the doctor began. "We're going to have to work a little more on your end, you know."

Jason nodded. It was one of the many things they had told him about during rehab. Spinal cord injury messed with everything—it screwed up the way you peed, how you took a crap and how you made love. It really messed up how you had a baby.

"Do you have a lot of trouble with autonomic dysreflexia?"

Jason shook his head. He'd only experienced it a couple of times—the sweating, pain and chills that came with a dramatic increase in his blood pressure. He was lucky. There were a few guys on the rugby squad that had regular problems with AD.

"Good. We'll have to collect sperm and the methods we use to collect can cause AD. So, we'll do that in my office and give you something to try and minimize any issues with your blood pressure."

Jason pulled Lyla's hand up to his lips and gave her a quick kiss. He wanted to do this for Lyla, for them both. Having a child wasn't going to be simple, but if there was a chance of succeeding, of having a baby that was biologically theirs, he wanted to try.

"It's not going to be the way your mom and dad made babies, but we'll do everything we can to make sure you go home with a little one," the doctor said as he closed their file. "Our policy here is to make dreams come true."

* * *

  
"They do what?" Tim said as he slid the open bottle of beer toward Jason. He tipped his own soda can to his lips and pulled up his chair to the table where Jason sat.

"Well, one of the many things I can't do normally anymore is get the little guys to come out and play, so they have to give me a little shock and that makes the sperm come out."

Tim shook his head. "Damn, Street. Broken neck or no, of course it makes them come out. Nobody, and I mean nobody, needs to be getting a shock like that in the back door."

Jason shook his head and lifted a finger to his lips. "The girls are coming back with Jake. No more talk about sperm or baby-making."

Lyla and Tyra walked over to the table, laughing. Jake ran ahead. "Hey, Uncle Jason—I got the high score on my game!"

"Way to go, buddy," Jason replied as he bumped fists with Jake. "Your mom always did have good hand-eye coordination."

"Nice, Six," Tim shot back. "Way to have my back."

"So, I hear Lyla's getting you a cattle prod for Christmas," Tyra said as she and Lyla sat down.

Tim let out a hoot. It was one thing to tell your best friend that you needed a bolt of electricity to get things moving, so to speak. But telling your best friend's wife was almost certainly off limits. Jay didn't seem to mind too much, just took a real long swallow of his beer. Lyla on the other hand blushed and dropped her head, her hair falling over her face.

"Tyra—what I say in the ladies room needs to stay there."

"What's a cattle prod?" Jake asked as he took a sip of his soda and grabbed another slice of pizza.

Now things were just getting out of control, although Tim could barely stifle his laughter.

"Hey, Jake—you ready for a challenge?" Jason asked, changing the subject. "I bet I can beat that top score."

Jake dropped his pizza back on his plate, cattle prod forgotten. "Awesome!" he cried as he headed back into the arcade with Jason following him.

"He looks good with a kid," Tim said as he picked another slice of pizza off the tray. They tried to spend a weekend together every few months or so, and Jay always seemed to bond instantly with Jake.

The three of them watched Jake and Jason battle it out in the arcade, Jake eventually raising his arms in the air as the champion. Turning back to the table, Tim saw the frown creasing Lyla's face.

She sighed, "I just wish this wasn't such an ordeal—it could be dangerous for him."

Tyra reached over and took Lyla's hand. "Are you sure you want to take that chance?" she asked.

"It's what Jason wants," Lyla replied, then paused and smiled. "And I want it too, but not if it's going to hurt him."

"Sometimes you have to take a chance on that stuff, though, Garrity," Tim answered. He looked over at Tyra and winked. "Like I did."

"The hell you did!" Tyra exclaimed. "I'm the one who had to take the chance on the fact that you had grown up and weren't such an idiot any more!"

"Who's calling who an idiot?" Jason asked as he wheeled back to the table.

Lyla leaned over and kissed him. "Me. For loving you," she teased.

"As if," Jason replied as he kissed her back.

"So, what time do we need to get there tonight?" Lyla asked Tyra.

Tyra checked her watch. "We should go pretty soon. Landry said the seats are good, but with the new album and the Grammy and the tour selling out, I have the sense it might be a bit of a scene."

Tim shook his head. It was still hard to believe Landry was 'this' type of famous. His band had released a bunch of albums before Tim got back together with Tyra, but in the last two years, their star had really taken off.

"Landry Clarke—man, who knew?" Jason said as he reached to take another sip of his beer.

"I knew," Tyra said quietly.

Tim reached over and took her hand. "You sure did, babe," he replied as he squeezed her hand. He was happy for Landry, and for Tyra who still worked as a promoter with his tour, and was enjoying the success of the band.

"And Matt and Julie?" Jason asked.

"They're meeting us there," Tyra replied. "They're leaving EJ with Julie's mom and dad for the night and then driving down from Denton. I'm not sure that Julie regularly lets that kid out of her sight."

"I can understand that," Lyla said, quietly, then turned and smiled at Jason. "But hopefully we'll have our own to worry about soon enough."

"Soon enough," Jason echoed.

"There's a limo here!" Jake yelled as he ran up to the table. "And the driver guy came in and said he was looking for me!"

"Oh man, Landry..." Tyra called out.

"Always the cool cat, that Landry," Tim said as he stood up. He reached over and grabbed the check.

"Hey, I'm getting that," Jason said.

Tim pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. "Nah, this one's on me, Street. Remember, we're staying at your place tonight."

"Yeah, but you're going to have to help me in and out of that stupid limo," Jason reminded him.

"Hey, that's what friends, and new knees, are for," Tim responded.

Jason nodded and smiled. "Okay, let's go see Country's newest super star."

* * *

  
"Ohmigod, Julie!" Tyra cried as she walked up to the Saracens in front of the stadium. "You look like you're going to burst."

Julie Taylor Saracen smiled, and slid her hand to her back, trying to relieve the pain that had started while they stood outside the stadium waiting for the rest of the group to arrive. She had definitely wanted to come see Landry and his band, but the fact remained that she was eight months pregnant and everything hurt.

"We had to stop every twenty minutes," Matt replied. "Every twenty minutes between Dillon and Denton, every twenty minutes between Denton and Austin..."

"I'd like to see how often you had to pee if you had a watermelon sitting on top of your bladder," Julie responded as swarms of people washed around them on their way into the concert.

"And how's EJ?" Lyla asked.

"Wonderful," Julie replied, her smile growing. "You're going to love being a mother, Lyla."

"I bet Coach is over the moon with a grandson," Jason added as he set the brakes on his chair. "You planning to add a running back to your quarterback? Y'all could be the Mannings of West Texas."

"What about you?" Matt asked. "You looking to extend the dynasty."

"Absolutely not," Lyla said, tossing her hair with a smile on her face. "No football players. They're going to be girls and if they're not, they're going to be in the orchestra."

"Wow, Street...big talk from the wife," Tim said as he clapped Jason on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, are you the Collette group?" a young man with a clipboard asked.

"Uh, yes," Tyra replied. "I'm Tyra Collette—uh, Riggins."

"Nice one, Landry," Jason said as he looked over at Tim.

"Water under the bridge, Street," Tim replied.

Julie nodded at Tim's response, impressed. He'd come a long way from three years ago when he was butting heads with Landry at every turn.

"Hey, Jake—let's go," Tim called. "We're headed in."

"Mr. Clarke has y'all in a box," the assistant said. "We can head over to the VIP door now, if you would like to follow me."

"Landry Clarke," Julie said, shaking her head. "Who knew?"

Tyra just smiled at her.

"Question of the night," Tim said as he took Tyra's hand. "Let's get in there and see what Lando can do—hopefully it's half as good as the first time I saw him perform with that band in high school...Crucisomething."

Lyla fell in step with Julie. "So you're feeling good and everything?"

Julie shrugged. "Pretty good, I guess. I mean, it was a pretty big surprise. EJ will only be a year old when the baby is born, but we want a big family and after everything we went through with the first baby, this was just kind of a blessing. Are you still planning on trying?"

"Yeah," Lyla responded. "As soon as possible." She smiled at Jason.

Tyra fell into step on Julie's other side. "More baby talk?"

"Of course," Julie replied, laughing. "And what about you? You and Tim going to give Jake a baby sister or brother?"

Tyra smiled at Jake walking alongside Tim. "We haven't really talked about it. Tim's still getting used to having one kid, I think."

"Are you women still talking about babies?" Jason asked as he joined them.

Lyla leaned over and slid her arm around his shoulder. "We've got babies on the brain, Jason Street. What do you expect?"

Julie looked over and smiled at them. Hopefully everything would work out as well for them as it had for her and Matt.

* * *

  
Landry Clarke looked in the mirror, the large bulbs seeming to highlight every line on his face. He touched his hair, moussed and hardened by hair spray. The costume he put on for the stage never seemed very real to him.

"Landry?"

Landry looked over to see his manager Joan standing at the door. "Yep?"

"You up for a visitor?" she asked, a smile on her face as she opened the door a bit wider.

Jake burst through the door. "Landry!" he called as he launched himself into the singer's arms. "I missed you!"

Landry tightened his arms around the boy. It had been too long. He loved the crowds and the energy of being on the road, but not seeing Jake for months was almost too hard to bear.

"I totally beat Uncle Jason at Pacman," Jake said.

"Pacman?" Landry asked. "Isn't that like an antique?" Man, Pacman had been old when he was Jake's age.

"C'mon, Landry—it's vintage," Jake said with an exaggerated sigh.

Landry shook his head. "How does an eleven year old even know what vintage is?"

"Cause it's what Mom likes," Jake replied. "Dad even got her a vintage ring for her birthday this year. I helped him pick it out."

Landry laughed and just shook his head. "So, how are the seats?"

"Awesome!" Jake shouted. "We're in this box thing all by ourselves and we'll totally be able to see you and the whole band and they have food and drinks and stuff and Dad moved some stuff around so that Uncle Jason can totally see and everything!"

Jake was such a good kid—Tyra had raised him so well. And Tim had been good for him, too, Landry had to admit. He had finally sold his share of the house to Tyra and Tim, and bought another one nearby. Not that he was ever there. His band had been travelling so much in the past few years. He was looking forward to this tour ending and getting back to Nashville. He was going to take a nice long break over Christmas and spend some quality time with Jake, with his family.

"So, where's your mom?" Landry asked. He had really been hoping to see Tyra before the show.

"Right here," Tyra said as she slowly walked into the room. "Crowd looks great, Landry."

"Totally sold-out, but I'd hope you knew that," Landry replied.

"You must have a good promoter," Tyra said, a smile crossing her face.

"Team Landry—best in the business," he answered.

"We'd better get back to our seats. I think the opening band is about to wrap up," Tyra explained.

"One more hug!" Landry requested as Jake flung his arms around him again. As he tightened his arms around the boy he looked up at Tyra. She smiled. And he knew she probably understood that he wished the hug was from her as well.

"Okay, Jake, let's go," Tyra instructed. Jake headed for the door, but Tyra waited an extra moment. She walked over and touched his arm. "Break a leg, Landry." She leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, then turned and started to follow Jake out the door.

"Hey, Tyra," Landry said.

She stopped and turned back to face him.

"After the concert—there's a party. I, uh...I want you to meet someone. And I want to see everyone, so bring Tim and the rest of them."

"I'd love to, but it'll be awfully late for Jake," Tyra said.

"Please mom," Jake cried.

"Just a few minutes?" Landry asked, watching Tyra's face for a break in her resolve.

She relented, her shoulders dropping and a smile crossing her face.

"Excellent," he said, rising up to give her one last hug. "And then brunch tomorrow, right?"

"Absolutely," Tyra replied. "I know Jake is counting on it."

"Five minutes to curtain," the stage manager called out as he walked down the hallway.

"Later," Tyra said as she kissed his cheek again.

"Later," Landry replied, watching as Tyra tucked her arm around Jake and headed back to their seats.

* * *

  
"You look good with a baby," Tami Taylor said as she walked into the family room. EJ was sound asleep in Eric's arms. He was such a natural with babies.

"We should live closer to them," Eric said, his finger sweeping gently along the soft skin on EJ's cheek.

The baby's eyes stayed close, his breathing even as he slept on, not bothered by his grandfather's close attention.

"I think that's a very good idea," Tami said as she sat down next to Eric on the couch. She smiled sadly. "It doesn't seem like we should take time for granted."

"Probably not," Eric said as he continued to stare down at the sleeping baby's face.

Moving would be a big step, but with their second grandchild due in a month, she knew she was going to wish she still lived in Dillon anyway. But she had her practice to consider, and then there was Eric's health. He had a rapport with his doctors, and his care had been top notch both here in Denton and at the cancer center in Dallas.

If she could take it all back—turn back the clocks to before Eric had gotten sick—she never would have left Dillon. Family was too precious to separate by distance.

Tami leaned her head onto his shoulder. She wished it could always be like this—that they could just hold this time for a little bit longer.

* * *

  
"That was some pretty nifty dancin', Saracen," Tim drawled, elbowing Matt in the ribs as they made their way backstage.

Matt felt his cheeks grow red. He'd never been one of those 'scream your head off at a concert' teenagers. He'd always felt stupid jumping around and yelling out the lyrics; like everyone was staring at him and his bad singing voice. But tonight, he had to admit he'd felt a bit of the crowd's energy seep into his bones.

"I was being supportive," Matt tried to explain.

"You were gettin' your groove on," Tyra chided, laughing.

Matt laughed, unable to deny it. It was official. He was a member of the _Hometown Hero_ fan club.

"Hey, over here!"

Landry was waving at them from across the room. His hair was damp and he'd changed clothes since the last encore.

"Landry, you were awesome!" Jake cried, latching his arms around Landry's waist.

Landry beamed, tousling Jake's hair. "It was a good crowd," he said, brushing off the compliment.

"It was a good concert," Tyra said firmly, leaning in to hug him. She pulled back and wrinkled her nose. "But you need another shower."

"Hey, playing guitar is hard work," Landry protested.

"Performing for the ladies is hard work, Lando," Tim teased. "Did you hear them screaming? You must be the straightest gay guy in Nashville."

"Oh, there is nothing straight about this guy," a male voice interrupted.

Matt turned to see a man approach them from behind. He circled around to stand behind Landry, placing his hand on Landry's shoulder.

"So," the stranger continued. "Introductions?"

Landry grinned, his cheeks reddening even further. "Everyone, this is Ken. Ken, this is Tyra and Tim and their son, Jake. My friends Matt and Julie and my soon to be god child and...where's Jason and Lyla?"

"They're meeting us at the car," Tyra explained. "So, you're this person Landry said we had to meet, huh?" She winked at Landry.

Matt shook his head. Well, so it had finally happened. As far as he knew, Landry had dated. But he'd never brought someone home to meet his friends, so to speak. As Landry made formal introductions around the group, Ken's hand slipped off Landry's shoulder and down to grasp Landry's right hand in his. The smile on Landry's face was obvious. Matt grinned and reached out to shake Ken's hand in turn.

Way to go, Landry, he thought to himself. Way to go.

* * *

  
_Five Years Later..._

Julie heard the phone ring. She tucked her head under the covers. It was too early. Good news never came in an early phone call.

Beside her Matt fumbled for the phone, finally stopping the incessant ringing. His voice was quiet, then Julie heard the dreaded one-word questions. "What? How? When?"

Fear filled her heart. She knew without even having to ask. It was bad.

_/tbc/_  


* * *

  
**Disclaimer** : All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.  
**Authors' Note** : Thanks to our special guest beta, you know who you are.


	2. The Funeral: Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to our beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[devilc](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).

**Title** : The Funeral: Chapter 2  
 **Authors** : [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_wilder**](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
 **Summary** : Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**The Funeral  
Chapter 2**

_Christmas, 2019_

The minister held the little baby in his arms. The tiny baby seemed lost in the long white gown that EJ had worn at his baptism, and Julie before him. "I present to you, your new brother in Christ, Andrew Matthew Saracen. We welcome him to our family of believers." He walked up and down the aisle of the church as the congregation welcomed the newly baptized baby with applause. The pastor returned to the front where Matt and Julie were standing with Lois and her husband who were serving as Andrew's godparents.

Matt smiled at the pastor holding out their infant son for Julie to hold. Beside him, his wife stood still, her arms hanging limp at her side.

"Julie," he whispered, nudging her.

She looked up, her face confused, then glanced at their son and looked down again. Stepping forward, Matt smiled apologetically and accepted Andrew from the pastor. It was the Sunday before Christmas, a perfect time to have their new son's christening with Tami and Eric in Dillon for the holidays, and even Landry making the journey back for the special day. Everyone was excited to spend a few days together, celebrating Christmas and the christening. Everyone except Julie it seemed.

Shooting Julie a worried look, Matt shushed the baby who had woken up and started to squirm in his arms. He knew she was tired, the baby had been up most of the night, and EJ rarely made it through the night without waking at least once. Having two kids so close together was a struggle, but they'd always talked about having a big family. This was what all couples went through, right?

As the service drew to a close, Matt leaned over to hand Andrew to Julie. Instead, she turned away, walking towards EJ and her parents. She picked EJ up in her arms, snuggling her face into his neck.

"Momma loves you, baby," he heard her whisper.

It was touching to see, but in his heart, Matt still worried about her. She hadn't been the same since Andrew's birth. He'd read about post-partum depression, but Mrs. Taylor was a counselor—surely if Julie was sick she'd notice it.

Pushing his worries aside, he handed the baby to Tami who was holding out her arms for the little boy. Then he turned to put EJ's coat on him, but Julie had already done it and was walking down the aisle—her parents, husband and infant son left behind.

* * *

  
"Come here," Jason said, holding his arms out to Lyla. He had that look he got when he knew she was hurting—like he wanted to scoop her into his arms, to take away all of her pain.

Lyla crossed over and collapsed onto his lap, her body limp in his arms, wracked with the tears and sobs that she didn't seem to be able to stop.

"It's going to be okay," he said, as he smoothed his hand down her hair. "We'll try again, baby."

It would have been too easy. The IVF seemed to have gone so smoothly. They were able to get Jason's sperm without too much trouble and the fertilization went well. They had a good number of fertilized eggs to pick from and transferred three into Lyla's uterus. Everything seemed to be clicking.

But at the end of the two-week wait, there was nothing—no plus sign on the pregnancy test, no doubling numbers on the beta test, no baby.

She had known it might not work, that it was the risk they were running, but she couldn't stop feeling the loss of this baby that wouldn't be.

Jason held her tight. She hated how emotional it made her, but the hormone shots put her feelings all over the map. She knew he felt responsible, but it wasn't just his body that was failing him—it was also her body that hadn't accepted the egg, that hadn't helped it grow into a baby.

The plan had seemed so simple. They had planned to do the IVF in early November, but there had been a problem with Lyla's cycle and they had to wait another month. That pushed them into December. Jason had wanted to wait until after the holidays, but Lyla wanted to press on. And yes, it would have been great if they had found out they were pregnant at the holidays, but now it was two days before Christmas and instead of celebrating their joy, she was here, sitting in his lap unable to stop crying and completely unable to face any expectant faces wondering how the treatments were going.

Her gut had told her to not tell anyone when they were starting, but she had been too excited. She had told Tyra. And Jason had told his parents they were going to try before the end of the year.

Oh god—Jason's parents. She felt the emotion washing over her again.

"Call your mom—I can't go there for Christmas," Lyla said, her voice muffled.

"I don't know if we should start hiding this, Lyla—we need their support," Jason replied.

"I can't," she responded. "Just call them, please, Jason."

"Of course," he replied. He tightened his arms around her once again. Her body collapsed against his. She couldn't have stood up if she wanted to, which she didn't—she never wanted to go anywhere else again.

* * *

  
"I think Billy is enjoying himself," Tyra said as she watched Jake and Billy down in the water, splashing one another.

"I'm pretty sure he figured out that last place was a topless beach," Tim responded as he reached for his glass of ice tea. "Hawaii was a lovely idea, Mrs. Riggins."

Tyra looked over at him and smiled. She loved seeing Tim so relaxed, and being able to share this with Billy and Jake made it even better.

"I guess we should count ourselves lucky that it wasn't Nebraska that was the latest to legalize gay marriage," Tyra teased.

"I know you're tight with Landry, but I've got my limitations," Tim replied. "And one of them includes going cold places in the winter."

"I didn't know you were such a baby," Tyra said, playfully swatting at Tim. "It was a beautiful wedding, wasn't it?"

"Not as nice as ours," Tim answered.

"Never," Tyra replied. She smiled as she thought about the simple ceremony on the beach at sunset, uniting Landry and Ken in marriage…officially. The look of pure joy on Landry's face as he committed himself to his partner. Tyra couldn't remember the last time she had seen him so happy.

"You don't think it was too soon, do you?" she asked Tim. "I mean, we only just met Ken last fall."

"Lando knows exactly what he's doing," Tim answered.

Tyra leaned back in her chaise and took a sip from her margarita. "I know…you're right. I just worry about him." As far as she knew, Landry hadn't had any long-term relationships since he'd come out. And then the first guy he dated seriously, he married. Sometimes she thought it was pure romance, but then other time she worried that Landry was trying to fill the void left by her and Jake with someone else.

"He's happy, Tyra. We're happy." Tim leaned over and kissed her. "You know, Hawaii is a good place to make a baby."

"Oh, crap!" Tyra exclaimed.

Tim leaned back. "Not exactly the reaction I was expecting."

"No, I was going to call Lyla and see how things had gone. I think they were finding out today about the IVF."

Tim got up and moved over to her chaise, leaned in and kissed Tyra deeply. "Call her later."

Tyra shook her head. "You're really bad, Tim Riggins." She kissed him back, wondering if she could find Landry around here somewhere to keep an eye out for Jake and Billy. "I'll call her later."

* * *

  
"Is everything okay, Matt?" Eric asked as he walked out into the garage. His son-in-law was standing in front of the chest freezer.

"Uh, I was just getting some more ice for the punch," Matt replied, his voice distracted.

Eric stepped up next to Matt and put his arm on Matt's arm. "That's not what I asked. Is everything okay, here?"

Matt turned and faced Eric and shook his head. "No—I don't think it is. Julie's not herself and it's not like it was last time. Last time she was tired after the baby was born and a little stressed figuring everything out, but she's just not herself at all."

"What can we do?" Eric asked. "Tami and I will do whatever you kids need."

_"When did you talk to Julie last?" Eric asked as he fixed his eyes on the highway they were traveling._

_Tami laid down the magazine she had been looking at. "I talked to Matt two nights ago to make sure they didn't need us to bring anything."_

_"But Julie. When did you talk to Julie last?" Eric asked again._

_Tami thought for a moment. "I'm not sure," she replied. "She's been asleep or feeding the baby most of the times I call."_

_"I don't think they're okay, Tami," Eric said quietly. He hadn't wanted to say anything before, but a nagging thought that something just wasn't right bothered him. "Matt has been trying to cover it, but I think she's struggling."_

_Tami slid her hand across his leg and took his hand in hers. "I'll talk to her, Eric."_

_Eric nodded in affirmation. "Good."_

_"And a Matt chat for you?" Tami asked._

_"Yeah," he agreed. "I think one is in order."_

"Honestly, I'm not really sure, Eric," Matt replied. "I tried to get her to go back to the doctor, but she wouldn't. It's like she's not the same Julie."

"I wish you had told us," Eric replied. "We'd like to help you kids."

"I just kept thinking she'd get better," Matt replied. "And then it was so long and she wasn't coming around and then it was hard to tell you. I just kept thinking the baptism would get here and she'd see you and she'd be Julie again."

Eric shook his head and sighed heavily. It just never got easier. Your kids grew up and had kids of their own, but they still needed their parents. And Eric didn't have a clue how to help Julie this time.

"Tami's going to talk to her, son. We'll figure something out."

"Let's just get through today, okay?" Matt asked. "I don't want to upset her with everyone here."

"Alright. Tomorrow. Tomorrow we will sit down and talk this through and try to get her to see a doctor or something."

Matt sighed heavily, reaching into the freezer for the ice.

"Here, let me," Eric said quickly, stepping and hoisting the bag of ice into his arms.

"Thanks," Matt said quietly. "For everything."

Eric glanced quickly at his son-in-law's face and saw the look of complete anguish written there. It tore at his heart to see either Julie or Matt hurting, and here they were with both of them in pain.

"We'll figure something out," Eric repeated, his voice sounding hollow even to his own ears. "We'll figure something out."

* * *

  
Joanne Street hung up the phone and walked into the living room. "They're not coming," she said.

Mitch Street looked up from his newspaper. "What do you mean they're not coming?"

Joanne shrugged. "I don't know—Jason said Lyla wasn't feeling well and they weren't going to drive down."

"Well, shoot," Mitch replied. "Not even tomorrow or something?"

"I guess not," Joanne said as she crossed the room and sat down on the couch next to her husband. "I think something else is going on. Jason just didn't sound like himself." She replayed the phone conversation in her head. Jason hadn't seemed disappointed that they couldn't come spend Christmas in Dillon, more like he was anxious to tell his mother not to expect them and get off the phone.

"You think everything's okay?" Mitch asked, his voice filled with concern.

"No, I don't," Joanne replied. "Call it a mother's intuition, but there's something they're not telling us."

She got up and walked back into the kitchen and picked up the phone. Maybe Jason didn't want to tell her what was going on, and that was fine, but she had to let him know she was there for him. That she and Mitch would always be there for him and Lyla.

"Hello?" Jason said as he answered the phone.

"Jason, it's Mom."

She heard him sigh on the other end.

"We can't come," Jason said, his voice quiet.

"I know…I just…" Joanne stammered. "I just was worried that something was wrong, honey."

Jason was quiet on the other end.

"I just wanted to ask if there was anything we could do," Joanne added. "You know we'll do anything for you, Jason."

"I know, Mom," Jason replied, his voice breaking.

The sound of pain in her son's voice was almost too much to bear. She felt tears rush to her eyes instantly. "What is it, honey?" Joanne asked.

She could hear him choking on a sob.

"Lyla isn't…I mean, there isn't going to be…the IVF didn't work," Jason finally said.

Joanne took a deep breath and nodded. Of course, the in vitro. Jason and Lyla hadn't said exactly when they were going to try, but she had known something was wrong.

"I'm sorry, honey," she said, trying somehow to comfort him through the line, all those miles away in Austin. Why did things have to keep being so hard for Jason? Why was it when it seemed like he'd found his way in life another road block had to be thrown up in front of him?

"Is there anything we can do for you?" she asked again.

"No," Jason choked out. "We're just going to spend some time together—we'll try again."

"I'm praying for you, Jason…for you and Lyla and the baby," Joanne said.

"Thanks, Mom and I'm sorry about Christmas," Jason apologized.

"Well, I'd be lying if I didn't say we weren't going to miss you, but you take care of Lyla, honey."

She said goodbye to her son and hung up the phone. She turned to head back into the living room to let Mitch know what was going on, but before she took a step, she felt the sob overcome her. She tucked her face in her arm to muffle the noise.

_Dear God—give them a baby_ , she asked. _Dear God—give us all a baby._

* * *

  
"Consider yourself on the injured list, Williams."

Smash bit his lip and stared angrily at his coach. It wasn't fair, he couldn't do this to him.

"We'll write it up as a sprained wrist, something small, and you take care of this…of this problem before I have to bench you for the season."

"Am I excused…sir?" Smash asked tightly.

His coach only grunted in reply and Smash whirled around to leave the office. His teammates stared at him as he grabbed his bag and left the locker room. He couldn't speak to any of them; didn't want to try and explain away the changes in his behavior and absences from practice.

The drive through the city was slow, but Smash didn't remember any of it. He could only think of getting back to his condo. Of getting inside, alone, and forgetting about this horrible day.

He slammed the door behind him and headed straight for his bedroom. Three minutes later and he was staring down at the piece of rubber tied around his arm. He tapped on his arm to get the vein to pop up.

_"I'm not going to sit here and watch you waste your life," Kevin said as he stood at the door._

_"I'll stop—it was just a thing, to get me through the season," Smash pleaded._

_"You're not going to stop Brian," Kevin replied. "Honestly, I don't think you can stop, even if you want to."_

_"Please don't leave, baby," Smash said as he walked over to Kevin and put his arm on Kevin's arm. "Please don't leave me here."_

_Kevin shrugged Smash's arm off his own. "If I thought it would help you, I'd stay here in a minute. I love you, Brian, but honestly, if I stick around we're done. Get yourself clean." He opened the door and walked out of their home—out of Smash's life._

Smash pulled the drug out of the vial, into the tube. How had he gotten here? He'd been an NFL all-star, the MVP of the Super Bowl…he'd shared his life with an amazing person.

Now only one thing mattered and he'd better get it in his arm right now. Smash tipped the syringe and plunged the liquid into his arm.

The flush ran over him, the relief and euphoria. That was it. That made all that other stuff not matter.

* * *

  
Julie lay on her bed in the darkened bedroom. Down the hall she could hear Matt saying goodnight to her parents, then the soft sounds of her parents moving around in the downstairs bedroom while Matt walked up the stairs to their room. She closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep as he entered.

"You feel like saying good night to either of your kids, or is it just me and your parents you are ignoring?" Matt announced as soon as he entered the room.

Julie opened her eyes, staring at the wall in front of her. Matt hated her, he had to. Hell, most days she hated herself. She just couldn't bring herself to care what Matt or her parents thought. Or about her sons and what they needed from her. She felt like she was in a constant fog, too tired to care about anyone's expectations of her.

"I have a headache," she mumbled. It was an excuse that normally bought her at least a few hours.

"Perfect," Matt snapped. He turned on the light in their adjoining bathroom and noisily got ready for bed himself. When he returned to their room, he left the bathroom door open, the light cutting a swath on the wall before her.

"Julie?" he said, his voice much quieter, gentler than before.

"Mmm-hmm," she mumbled.

"Do you love EJ and Andrew? Do you love me?"

Her heart seized in her chest. A sob rose quickly in her throat, almost choking her. She sat up in bed and turned to face him, her face hot.

"How can you ask me that?"

Matt shrugged, the gentleness from before replaced with disinterest. Almost like he already knew the answer to his questions.

"I don't know," he replied, his voice almost void of emotion. "But I know I love you. And I know that somewhere deep down you love our children. And you would never hurt them, not purposefully. But you are hurting them, Julie. You don't even look at Andrew and EJ barely registers as needing your attention."

"That's not fair," Julie said.

"Maybe not," Matt replied, his voice taking on a feverous tone, the urgency in his words obvious. "But it's how I feel. And it's not just me. Your parents noticed it too. They think you need help, and so do I. And we're willing to support you."

He stepped closer to the bed as he spoke and Julie shrunk back against the headboard. He stopped suddenly, as if her movements were words telling him not to come any closer.

Matt shook his head. "You've really given up, haven't you?"

Julie bowed her head away from him, unable to meet his eyes.

"Well, I guess staying committed to your husband and kids is too much to ask, huh?"

His words ignited a fire within her. Her head snapped up and she lashed out at him.

"How can you say that to me? I have been with you my whole life!" Julie cried. "Ever since I was 15. 15, Matt! That's too young to make decisions about the person you are going to be. Too young to tie yourself to one person for the rest of your life."

"Well excuse me, Julie. I didn't realize you felt so tied down."

Julie looked at his face, shattered by her words. Every breath she took wounded him, every moment she was part of his life destroyed him a little further. How could she claim to love this man who had given her so much, and expected nothing in return? She didn't deserve him. Didn't deserve his love.

"I'm sorry, I just…I can't…"

"Can't what?" Matt asked, exhaustion evident in his voice. Down the hall the familiar cry of their infant son rang out in the darkness. Neither of them moved.

"Are you going to feed him or should I get a bottle?" he asked.

Julie turned her head away. She couldn't even look Matt in the eyes.

"Fine," Matt huffed, turning toward the door. "But you know, maybe you better think about spending some time with your son while he's still little, and can't see how much you hate him."

Her cheeks flamed as if he had slapped her himself. Down the hall she could hear Matt's soft voice soothing Andrew. Then the sounds faded as he took the crying baby downstairs, away from where EJ was still soundly sleeping.

Her family—her husband and sons, the children they'd worked so hard have. All of it felt like a burden these days. There was a weight sitting on her chest, pushing her down beneath the waves. Every time she tried to come up for air, another problem, another dirty diaper or stubbed toe would scream in her face and she'd slip back beneath the waves.

Julie looked around the room. It was suffocating her. Matt was suffocating her. The baby was suffocating her. After a moment she moved over to the closet, opened the door and pulled out her suitcase.

If she didn't get out of here now, she'd never make it out alive.

* * *

  
_Five Years Later…_

Tim opened his eyes at the sound of a high-pitched squeal. He sat up in bed. Tyra?

Slowly his eyes adjusted to the early morning light. The clock on his bedside read 5:13 AM. Tyra was still sleeping beside him. He pulled his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, pausing to stretch. Scratching absently at his chest, he wandered out into the hallway where he could see a blue light radiating out from under Jake’s door. He knocked quietly and pushed the bedroom door open. Jake was asleep in bed, his TV still on from the night before. A police car was chasing down some poor criminal, the siren screaming in the early morning light. Smiling, Tim reached down to turn off the set, then paused to stare at his sleeping son. 15 years old and already reaching Tim’s shoulders. Tim was starting to feel old.

Walking back to his bedroom, he was just sitting on the side of the bed when the phone rang. Quickly he grabbed it before Tyra woke up.

“Lo?” he mumbled softly.

“Tim? It’s Julie.”

_/tbc/_   


* * *

  
**Disclaimer** : All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.  
 **Authors' Note** : Thanks once again to our beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[**devilc**](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).

_Dedicated to the memory of Miss Malificent_


	3. The Funeral: Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to our beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[devilc](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).

**Title** : The Funeral: Chapter 3  
 **Authors** : [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_wilder**](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
 **Summary** : Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**The Funeral  
Chapter 3**

_April, 2020_

Tim held a screw between his lips as he drilled another pilot hole into the cabinet he was installing. Another fine job by Riggins Interiors. It had taken a few years, and ultimately a sizeable investment on Tyra's part, but Tim finally had his own company—installing cabinetry and lighting in upscale homes throughout Nashville. Being his own boss felt great. It gave him a lot more hours to work, but it was worth it.

His cell phone rang in his pocket and he fished it out, mumbling around the nail still in his mouth. "M-ello?"

"Do you remember Dad?"

Tim sat up quickly, knocking his head against the countertop as he did. "Billy?"

Billy repeated his question, oblivious to Tim's confusion. "Do you remember Dad, Tim?"

"Uh, yeah, sure. Why?" Billy called him at least once a day, and usually it was about things as mundane as what flavor of ice cream he should choose, but their father had never been a topic of conversation. Why now all of a sudden?

"Because I don't remember him and that lady says I should."

Tim stood up now, pressing his phone tighter to his ear. "What lady? Did someone talk to you about Dad?"

"That lady that was here. Dad's wife. She said I should go see Dad, but I don't remember him. I don't want to see someone I don't remember."

Tim's stomach churned. Walt was remarried? And his wife was in Dillon harassing Billy?

"Is she still there?" Tim asked, grabbing his keys off the kitchen counter.

"No, but we can call her. She wrote her number down for me and everything."

"Hang on, Billy. Don't do anything. I'll drive down, okay? I won't get there until tomorrow morning, but…just sit tight. I'll take care of it."

"Okay," Billy replied. He was quiet for a minute, then his voice came back over the line. "Tim? If she's Dad's wife, does that mean I have to call her Mom?"

Tim slammed the door of his truck and peeled out of the driveway. Whoever this lady was, he was going to find her and set her straight. Walt's wife or not; she had better leave him and Billy alone.

* * *

  
"Julie, hon, will you be home for dinner tonight?"

Tami called down the hallway to her daughter's room. It still felt odd to think of it as 'Julie's room'. This was a new house for her and Eric, one they'd only been moved into for a week when Julie had shown up on their doorstep in Austin. That was a few weeks after Christmas. A few weeks after Julie had left her husband and kids without so much as a note.

Tami had suspected post-partum depression, even before Julie went as far as to run out on them. But it only took one look at her daughter, standing there on their doorstep in a strange city, to know she was desperate for help. And they had helped her as much as they could. Julie was seeing a doctor regularly, and had started volunteering at a local school after leaving her teaching job behind in Dillon.

Now, if only Tami could get Julie to make an attempt at reconciliation with Matt….

"Julie," she called again, knocking softly on Julie's bedroom door. When there was no answer, she pushed the door open. Julie's bed was still made; it hadn't been slept in…again.

"Eric!" Tami yelled as she stormed back down the hallway to the living room. "I would like you to have a chat with your daughter, please!"

Her husband looked up from his newspaper, heavy crease lines in his forehead. "Something new I should be discussing, or just the same old?"

Tami sighed, pushing her hair off her face with her hands. Julie was an adult, Tami knew that, but how did you stand by and watch your daughter throw away her marriage and not say anything?

"What are we going to do with her?" she asked Eric.

Eric lowered the newspaper and smiled gently at her. "We could lock her in her room. Ground her. Did either of those things work back in high school?"

Her husband—ever the jokester. She wasn't in the mood to joke about Julie, but then…was there really any point in arguing about it?

Their conversation was interrupted as the front door opened and Julie walked in.

"Morning," she said sleepily, barely glancing in her parent's direction.

Tami waited quietly while Julie walked down the hallway, then raced to the front window. A car was just pulling out of the Taylor's driveway.

"It's him again, Eric! She's dating that teacher. I told you volunteering at that school was a bad idea."

Eric's strong hands massaged her shoulders as he came to stand behind her. "Weren't you the one that encouraged her to get out of the house?"

"Yes, but I didn't want her to sleep with another man! She's married!"

Eric frowned, looking past Tami out the front window.

Tami closed her eyes, feeling every one of her years weighing down on her. She had to talk to Julie. It was time for some tough love. If she wanted to date another man…well, that's not what Tami wanted at all, but Matt deserved to know. And Julie should be the one to tell him.

Walking surely down the hallway, Tami paused in the open doorway to Julie's room. There was a suitcase open on the bed, one that hadn't been there a few minutes ago. Julie emerged from the closet then holding an armload of clothes.

"Going somewhere, honey?" Tami asked.

Julie smiled, walking back to the closet for another pile of clothing. "It's time," she said. She looked up at her mother and there were tears shining in her eyes. "I broke it off with Paul. I'm going back to Dillon. Tonight."

"Oh honey," Tami said, walking over to gather Julie in a hug. "Have you talked to Matt?"

"No, I want to surprise him."

"Oh, that's nice." Tami bit her lip nervously. Matt had called the Taylor's house pretty regularly when Julie first showed up there, but she had never taken his calls. And eventually he had stopped calling. Now it was only when Tami called to check on her grandbabies that she spoke with Matt, and usually the topic of Julie was off limits.

"Are you sure you shouldn't call? Make sure he's home?"

"Mom, where is he going to be? And if he's out, I'll wait. Besides, I still have a key!"

Nothing could deter Julie from her plans, and Tami was happy that she was going back to Dillon. She just wasn't sure Julie's old life was at home just waiting for her to jump back into it.

* * *

  
Smash gripped two coffee cups in his hands and checked the arrivals board one more time. The flight from New York had landed 20 minutes ago. Kevin should be here by now.

He paced over to the doors leading to the luggage carousels, then back to check the arrivals screen again. The frosted glass doors slid open and a family with two young kids exited. Smash was turning around to check the board once more time when the family stepped aside and he saw a lone figure standing behind them.

It was Kevin.

Smash couldn’t hide the smile that broke across his face. He stood frozen like a statue as Kevin made his way over to Smash. What was he going to say? They hadn't seen each other in months. Would things still be the same?

Kevin stopped right in front of Smash and grinned. "Not even going to help a guy with his luggage? Classy, Williams."

Reaching out with the two coffees still in his hands, Smash pulled Kevin into a hug. God, he'd missed this man. It had been too long. Far too long.

* * *

  
Matt reached across the stove to turn down the element, then grabbed the pot with one hand while reaching for the pasta strainer with the other. In his high chair, Andrew was wailing for his bottle, and EJ had plastered himself to one of Matt's legs.

"Look Daddy, I'm a koala bear!"

"That's good, EJ," Matt replied absently, pouring the pasta into the strainer and reaching back to make sure the sauce didn't scorch on the stove. He plucked Andrew's bottle out of the warmer and dabbed a few drops of formula on his wrist. Too hot. Shit.

"Okay, buddy, okay," Matt said as he shuffled across the kitchen and picked Andrew up in his arms. Half dragging EJ with him, he made his way over to the fridge and laid the bottle of formula back inside. "Almost ready, Andrew. Hang on."

The baby whimpered and grabbed at Matt's shirt for attention. Trying to ignore the chaos around him, Matt served up a plate of pasta for himself and a small plastic bowl full for EJ and made two trips to the table to lay everything out. Then he reached back in the fridge for the bottle, praying it hadn't gotten too cold at this point.

"Okay, EJ, up in your chair." Still holding Andrew, Matt helped EJ into his high chair and buckled him in. He was a pro at one-handed tasks now. He could fold a load of laundry and read a storybook, all while rocking Andrew to sleep. Super-Dad.

Except why did he feel like he was going to fall over from exhaustion? Sinking down into his chair, Matt nestled Andrew in the crook of his arm and placed the bottle in the baby's open mouth. He picked up EJ's fork and put a bite in the child's mouth, then switched forks and ate a bite of his own food.  
  
Then there was a knock on the door.

Before he could stand, the front door opened slowly and Matt caught his breath. He hadn't seen Julie in almost four months. Hadn't spoken to her other than once when he'd called Tami to ask for a recipe and Julie had answered the phone. And yet, here she was, her blonde hair longer than he remembered, standing in their hallway.

"Hi," Julie said quietly.

"Mama!" EJ cried, shooting his arms up in the air, a fistful of spaghetti flying back to land on the cupboards.

Julie grinned as she walked over to EJ, her eyes seeking out permission from Matt as she moved. Matt didn't say anything. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. She'd left him with two small children without a word or a note and now it was as if nothing had happened. She was back.

"Julie," Matt said quietly, her name foreign on his lips. "What are you doing here?"

Julie had taken EJ out of his high chair and was hugging him to her chest. "I missed you," she said simply. "I'm ready to come home."

Matt nodded, but didn't respond. She was ready to come home; but was he ready to let her?

* * *

  
Lyla looked down at her ringing cell phone. The display said "undisclosed" but she knew that meant it was the clinic calling.

She wasn't sure she could answer the phone and hear bad news again. She had known that doing the in vitro fertilization was not going to be easy, but she had no idea how hard it would be—how devastating it was to do in the IVF and then wait for two weeks only to find out that it hadn't worked again. The message boards that had offered her so much support at the beginning now seemed to be mocking her as more and more women seemed to be getting pregnant and having healthy babies.

Everyone except her and Jason.

"Hello," she said as she finally answered the phone. "This is Lyla Street."

She listened to the nurse give her the results. She felt a cold wave wash over her.

_"Just tell me," Lyla said as she sat across from the nurse at the fertility clinic._

_The nurse tried to look sympathetic. "I'm really sorry, Lyla. Maybe next…"_

_Lyla stood up and slung her purse over her shoulder. "Yeah, I know—maybe next time. Well, maybe there won't be a next time."_

_She turned and headed out the door. As she strode into the waiting room, the door opened and Jason wheeled in._

_"Sorry I'm late," he apologized._

_"Yeah, well, it really doesn't matter," Lyla said as she walked past him._

_Jason pivoted his chair and pushed to follow her through the door before it closed again._

_"Lyla, wait," he called after her._

_She paused at the elevator, her hand resting just above the button she needed to press to call the car. She turned and looked at him, her eyes filled with tears. "I know it's the damned hormones, but I just can't stand feeling like this anymore."_

_"So, let's take a break," Jason said. "We've been doing this for almost six months and let's just take a break."_

_"I want to give you a baby," Lyla said, her voice choking with the tears she couldn't stop._

_"Well, I want to have a baby with you," Jason replied. "You don't need to give me anything—you've given me enough with your love."_

_Lyla raised her hand to cover her mouth and began to cry harder. Jason pushed his chair closer and took her other hand in his._

_"We'll just take a little break," Jason said. "Let's get away and relax and remember what our life used to be like."_

_Lyla nodded. It would be good to get away. They needed a break._

"Okay, yes, I understand," Lyla said as the nurse finished. She finished the call and snapped her phone close.

She needed to find Jason.

* * *

  
Tim walked up the steps to Billy's house—the group home he'd moved into when Tim had moved to Nashville to live with Tyra and Jake. It had been too long since he'd visited; not since Christmas. But Billy didn't seem to mind, and Tim had been busy with work.

"Hey, Phil," Tim said as he greeted one of the staff members.

"Well, well, Tim Riggins. You're not planning on sneaking Billy out for a little late night trip down memory lane, are you?"

Tim grinned and shook his head. Phil had worked at the rehab center when Jason was there so many years ago. He was never going to let Tim forget kidnapping Jason one night for a trip out to the lake.

"If I do, I'll make sure you're not working, deal?" Tim replied.

Phil laughed, but then his smile faded quickly. "You here to see Billy?"

Tim nodded, suddenly worried that something else had happened since Billy's phone call yesterday.

"I'm real sorry about that woman. She said she was married to your father, and I just assumed she was family."

"You talked to her?" Tim asked, surprised.

"Uh, yeah, when she arrived this morning. I left her and Billy in the back room, only for a minute, but when I came out Billy was yelling at her and she was just standing there."

God damn it. "Is she still here?"

"I told her to leave, but then Billy told her you were coming and she said she'd wait outside. You must have passed her on the way in."

Behind them, the front door to the group home opened and a woman entered.

Phil nodded before Tim could even ask. "Yep, that's her."

Tim turned to the woman standing near the front door.

"Hi, I'm Anne." She smiled hesitantly and held out her hand. "You're Billy's brother, right? Tim? You look just like your pictures."

Tim ignored her hand. "You should leave now."

"Wait, please, I just wanted to talk to you and Billy. I didn't know he was…"

"Was what? Retarded? Slow? Good ol' Walt never told you about the accident that turned Billy's brain to mush?"

Tim was fuming. He couldn't believe he was unleashing on a total stranger, but he still carried so much anger where their father was concerned. It wasn't healthy.

"No, I…I knew, but I thought…"

Anne looked honestly shamed to have caused so much trouble, but Tim didn't care about her feelings. He just wanted her, and Walt, to leave him and Billy alone.

"Your father didn't want me to come. He said it was better to leave you boys alone, but I had to try. He's sick, Tim. Really sick. The doctors don't give him much longer and I just thought…"

"You thought what? That harassing Billy would make us forgive him? Walt sure as hell didn't care about Billy when he got hurt. So why the hell should we give a damn what happens to him now?" Tim didn't care if their father was sick or dying or wanted one last shot at redemption. Walt had made his choice a long time ago. Tim was just holding him to it.

Behind him, Tim heard Billy's voice as he entered the room. "Timmy?"

Tim turned and saw Billy staring at him with a look that put all the problems of the world in Tim's hands. Like Tim was the guy that could fix anything. Like Tim was his father who took care of everything.

He turned back to Anne briefly. "Billy and I don't have a father. And you should leave before we call the cops." He walked past Phil to where Billy was standing and led his brother out of the room. He wasn't going to let painful memories of the past ruin his impromptu visit with Billy. They would have a good time, just the two of them. As far as Tim was concerned, Walt Riggins did not exist.

* * *

  
Jason looked at his computer screen and sighed. The caterer had written down the wrong date for their big gala event and was telling him now that they would not be able to do the event, which was happening in two weeks. He reached for the phone to call and see if they had a recommendation for another vendor when there was a tap on his door.

"You busy?" his wife said as she stuck her head in his office.

Jason set the phone receiver back down. "Not with anything that can't wait while I talk to my lovely wife."

Lyla crossed the room and leaned down to kiss Jason lightly on the lips. She walked back in front of his desk and sat down in the chair in front of the desk.

"So, do you have any plans for next Valentine's Day?" she asked as she slid her right leg over her left.

"Not that I know," Jason replied. "Are we going somewhere special?"

Lyla smiled and leaned forward. "How about the hospital?"

Jason looked at her, a look of confusion on his face. "That sounds romantic," he said slowly.

The smile grew larger on Lyla's face. "Oh, I think you'll like the trip."

Jason wracked his brain trying to figure out what that angle was, what Lyla was teasing him with…

They were having a baby.

"Are you sure?" he asked Lyla.

She nodded, still smiling at him.

"Get over here," he instructed her.

Lyla crossed back over to him and gently sat down on his lap. He slid his right hand up on her abdomen, sliding down over where their baby was growing.

"A baby," he said as she laid her hand over his.

"A baby," she replied.

At last.

* * *

  
_Four Years Later_

Jason pushed open the door to the bathroom. Lyla was sitting on the closed toilet seat, the small piece of plastic in her hands—a scene they had repeated now more times than he was willing to remember.

"Lyla?" he asked as he slowly advanced across the room. He didn't want to ask, but he knew he had to.

She looked up at him, her hair falling away from her face. The tears were brimming in her eyes. He could tell she was trying everything in her power to not begin to cry.

Lyla held the test stick up so he could see.

So. That was it.

He pushed toward her, then stopped as the phone rang in the background.

"You should get that—it's early, so it must be something important," Lyla said, her voice devoid of any emotion.

They couldn't continue this way. They just couldn't. He picked up the phone.

"Hello," he said. "Yes, this is Jason Street."

He set the phone down a few minutes later, looking at the notes he had hastily scratched on the paper. His handwriting was barely legible under the best of circumstances. But they would have to be able to decipher his notes.

Because the unthinkable had happened.

_/tbc/_   


* * *

  
**Disclaimer** : All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.  
 **Authors' Note** : Thanks once again to our beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[**devilc**](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).


	4. The Funeral: Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to our beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[devilc](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).

**Title** : The Funeral: Chapter 4  
 **Authors** : [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_wilder**](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
 **Summary** : Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**The Funeral  
Chapter 4**

_September, 2020_

Tyra placed the book she was reading on her nightstand and rolled towards Tim as he climbed into bed.

"Hey you," she said softly, reaching out to stroke his bare back.

Tim smiled and rolled towards her, leaning in to plant a deep kiss on her mouth.

She smiled beneath the kiss, shifting to better position herself against his body. She loved this time of night. When Jake was asleep but it was still early enough to spend a little quality time with her husband before the need for sleep won out. And if that quality time was spent in the bedroom? Well she loved it all the more.

Tim's hand ran up her side, pulling her thin tank top along with it. She squirmed away from his ticklish touch and kissed him more fervently. He responded, pushing her back against the mattress and leaning across her body.

"Mmm," she sighed as he moved down to kiss her neck. "Let's make a baby."

Tim's mouth stopped still on her neck, his body frozen. Tyra stared at the ceiling. Had she just said that out loud?

With a flip of his hair, Tim's head popped up and stared at her. "Are you serious?"

She swallowed thickly. "Yeah, I think I am."

His eyes were dark, like she'd dropped some sort of bombshell. They had talked about this before. Over a year ago. Why was it coming as such a surprise to him now?

Moving away, Tim flopped down against his pillow. Tyra remained still for a moment and then turned towards him, her hand running across his ribs.

"You don't want to?" she asked.

"That's not it."

"Then..."

Tim closed his eyes. Seconds stretched into minutes and Tyra wondered if he hadn't fallen asleep. Then his mouth moved.

"Billy wants to go see Walt."

"What?" Tyra asked, shocked.

"He talked to Anne again. He called her," Tim added quickly. "He just...he doesn't understand. He doesn't remember."

Tyra watched her husband's face carefully. He had torment written all over it. She knew how he felt about his father. How much the pain of Walt's abandonment still stung after all these years. And now it was affecting their decision to have a child. A decision Tim had seemed fine with until he'd met Anne a few months back. Learning about Walt's illness had brought all his father-issues right to the surface again.

"So...do you want me to take him down there?" Tyra asked.

Tim's eyes flicked open and stared up at her. "No," he said sharply.

"Well I would," Tyra pressed. "If you don't want to go."

"No, it's not that, it's..." Tim sighed. "I don't want Walt to win. He shouldn’t get to see us just because he's sick."

"Tim," Tyra said softly, lying down so her head rested on his bare shoulder. Her hand stretched across his chest, trying to give some comfort through her touch. "Maybe we could all drive down there and see how you feel then."

"I don't want to see him."

"I know, but if Billy does..." Tyra held her breath, hopeful that Tim would see that visiting Walt might give him some much needed closure.

Tim was quiet for a long time, then finally his hand moved up to caress Tyra's shoulder. "I don't want Jake to meet him."

Tyra nodded and pressed her lips to Tim's chest. Whatever it took to get him through this.

* * *

  
Landry hopped up on the counter in Matt's kitchen and took a drink from the bottle of beer Matt had set near him. "So, tell me, Matty...what's going on in the life of my best friend? You know, you don't call anymore."

Matt looked over at Landry and shook his head, chuckling. "I don't call—you're the one who just blows into town and shows up at my door. You're lucky I was home."

Landry looked around the kitchen, the quiet of the house echoing. "Speaking of which, where's your family?"

Matt shrugged. "Julie's got the boys this weekend. I'm on my own."

Landry took another sip of his beer. It didn't feel like Matt's house without EJ and Andrew screaming and running around. Without Julie here in the kitchen nursing a beer while Matt and Landry drank like they were still in high school. It felt wrong, empty.

"What are you doing, man? I know you, and Julie Taylor is the love of your life." Landry shook his head. It wasn't right. They should be together. Matt and Julie belonged together. "What are you doing?"

"Paying a therapist to tell me I love my wife," Matt replied.

"Come on, Matt. You have loved that girl since you were 16. You don't need a therapist to tell you that."

"I love her, of course I do, it's just..."

"Just what?" Landry asked.

"I don't know. Some of the things she did," Matt stammered. He tucked his right hand down in the front pocket of his jeans.

Landry's heart ached for Matt, and for Julie. "I know she left you. But she was sick. Tell me you're not holding that against her," he responded, his voice serious.

"It's not that, Landry. Julie had an affair."

No. No way. "I don't believe it," Landry replied, a look of shock crossing his face.

"Believe it. A big one, according to her. 'Paul's such an intellect. He made me see that I wasn't leaving you and the boys, I was leaving myself.' Load of crap," Matt spat out.

Well that certainly put a spin on things. "So what are you doing about it?" Landry asked.

Matt shrugged and reached for the unopened beer on the counter. He twisted off the cap and raised it to his lips. "Paying a therapist to tell me I love my wife."

Landry sighed. This was worse than he'd thought. Matt and Julie were having a rough time, sure, but this was bordering on disaster. He didn't want them to get a divorce. They shouldn't get a divorce.

Slipping off the counter, Landry laid his beer down firmly. "Come on, let's get out of here and get fantastically drunk until you forget all about Julie and your marital troubles. And I'll craft a fabulous plan to get you two back together. You know I'm good with plans."

Matt smiled, but shook his head. "Nah, I can't. I got...I'm going out."

"Where do you have to go? Julie's got the boys, you're a free man!"

"I'm meeting someone, a friend."

Matt's cheeks reddened, just slightly, but Landry caught the sign. "Oh, oh no. You are not serious."

"What?" Matt said innocently.

"You've got a date. It's written all over your face." Landry pointed at him accusingly. "That's a date face."

"Landry," Matt said dryly, but his cheeks were turning a bright pink now.

"Man!" Landry cried. "What the hell are you doing? You want to get her back or what?"

"I don't know!" Matt said, matching Landry's tone. "She slept around on me, what the hell do you want me to do? Just roll over?"

Landry shook his head, his heart aching for his friend. It wasn't about revenge; you didn't feel better about your wife's affair by sleeping around with someone else. Matt was lonely, and hurt, and he needed comfort from someone. Anyone.

"Look, I know I'm probably not as cute as this gal, but would you settle for a night out with me?"

Matt smiled, his head ducking away.

"Don't do this, Matty," Landry pleaded. "If it doesn’t work out with Julie, fine. But give it your all first. Don't do what she did just to get back at her. You'll never make it work that way."

Landry held his breath. He knew he was treading a dangerous path, but he believed in Matt and Julie. They'd found happiness before Landry was even sure it existed. And now that he had a good man himself, he knew that what Matt and Julie had known for years was as good as it got. They just had to get past the rough patch.

"I shouldn't cancel now; it's late."

Matt had an excuse, but it was weak. Landry took that as a sign and put his arm around Matt's shoulders. "She's a fan of _Hometown Hero_ , isn't she? Everyone in Dillon is, right?"

Laughing, Matt shook his head. "You aren't that popular, Garth."

But his smile reached up to his eyes now, and Landry knew they were in the clear.

"Excellent!" Landry took out his cell phone. "Give me her number. I'll even throw in an autograph."

Matt fished his own cell phone out of his pocket and Landry beamed. It wasn't much, maybe only a day's delay for a date that was destined to happen eventually. But if he had his way, the only woman Matt would be dating would be his wife. He just had to work on Julie too—get them both fighting for the same thing.

* * *

  
Tim put his truck in park and rested his forehead on the steering wheel.

"What wrong with Dad?" Jake asked from the backseat.

"Headache, honey," Tyra replied.

Tim felt her warm hand caress his neck but it did little to ease his nerves. They were parked outside the Corpus Christi Cancer Center. Only a few feet separated him from his father now. And Tim still wasn't sure he was ready to walk in there.

"Anne said he's in..." Billy fished around in his pocket for something. "E-216. What floor is that on?"

"Second, Billy. East wing probably," Tyra replied.

"Can we take the elevator? Can we, Tim?"

Tim peeled his head off the wheel and looked over at Tyra. She shot him a small smile and he nodded. He was as ready as he was ever going to be.

"Sure, Billy. We can ride the elevator all day if you want to." Tim would give anything to delay them having to see Walt. But they'd come all this way with a purpose—get in there and see Walt and have this over and done with.

Tim told himself that he was really only here for Billy. Billy was curious about the man that had been their dad. And Tim still didn't think Billy really understood that Walt was dying. This was likely the last chance that they would have to see their father, and Tim had finally realized that he couldn't take that away from Billy. No matter what animosity he held toward Walt, it wasn't fair to push that off on Billy...or Jake, who was never going to know his grandfather.

Tim opened the door and stepped out into the hot afternoon sun. Jake and Billy led the way into the hospital, arguing over who was going to push the buttons first in the elevator. Beside him, Tyra slipped her small hand into his. Tim gripped it tightly and followed his brother and son.

The smell of the hospital hit him as soon as they walked through the doors. It wasn't something he could put his finger on, just a general smell of antiseptic and sickness. He'd always hated hospitals, and just stepping in made it flash over him—Jason, Billy, his own recovery. This visit couldn't end quickly enough for him.

They found Walt's room easily. Tim turned to ask Tyra to wait outside but she anticipated his words.

"We'll wait down the hall," Tyra said, pointing in the direction of a waiting room they had passed. She kissed Tim quickly on the cheek and walked away with Jake.

Tim took a deep breath, while Billy, seemingly oblivious to the tension Tim was feeling, pushed open the door to Walt's room. It was a private room, just a bed with a lone figure lying in it. As they neared the foot of the bed, Tim hesitated before looking down at his father. It was him, that much was obvious, but the man lying in the hospital bed was a shell of the man Walt Riggins had once been. His eyes and cheeks were sunken into his face, and what remained of his once muscular body almost disappeared beneath the thin blanket.

As Tim watched, Walt's eyes blinked open. Tim watched him cautiously, but there was nothing revealed on his face. Tim could have sworn Walt didn't recognize them at all.

"Is that him?" Billy said.

"Yeah, Billy."

At the sound of Billy's name, something shifted in Walt's expression. Shakily, his hand reached up and slid the oxygen mask from his face. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Tim?"

Tim didn't nod or move or gesture in any way, but his father seemed to know it was him suddenly. He smiled, the expression shockingly so familiar that Tim felt like he was 12 again. That was the last happy memory he had of being in a room with this man, and even then, the moments were few and far between. And intermixed with plenty of bad days.

"He looks old," Billy commented, more to Tim than Walt.

Walt coughed, a great hacking sound that shook his whole body. When he regained his breath, he inhaled shakily and looked at his sons. "I am old, Billy. It's been a lotta years since I seen you boys."

"Not like you didn't know where we were," Tim said.

"True," Walt said slowly. "Tim..."

Tim crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Don't bother, Walt. Billy wanted to see you and since I'm the one responsible for him now, I brought him here. But it was for him, not for you."

"Fair," Walt replied.

"You look sick," Billy commented as he crossed over next to his father's bed. "I like Anne. She's nice. She came to visit me."

Walt nodded slightly. "Yeah, I've been lucky, Billy."

The door pushed open and a girl about Jake's age came rushing inside.

"Jade, wait," Anne said as she followed her in the room. "Oh," she said as she caught sight of Tim and Billy. "Uh, sorry—we didn't mean to interrupt."

"I'm Billy," Billy said as he held his hand out to the young girl.

Tim watched as the little girl shyly tucked her hand in Billy's. Kids seemed to really take to his brother now—there was a gentleness to him.

"I'm Jade," she said quietly. She pointed to Walt. "That's my dad. He's sick."

Billy nodded. "Yeah. He's my dad too. I'm sorry he's sick."

Tim looked over at his dad, then to Anne. A kid. Of course. It all made sense now. No wonder Walt had taken off and never looked back. Not only was Walt's old family all broken and messed up, but he had found a brand new shiny model to replace them.

"Perfect," Tim muttered. "Uh, I'm going to wait for you out there, Billy," he said, pointing to the door.

"Hey, Jake is here. He might want to play with Jade," Billy offered.

"Jake?" Walt asked.

Tim cursed silently. He closed his eyes as he turned back to Walt. "Jake's my son," Tim replied. "Same age as your daughter I guess." His words came out clipped and a bit bitter.

"Tim," Anne said as she reached out to touch him on the arm. "Can we let it go?"

"Yeah, I don't think so," Tim said as he reached for the door. "Come find me when you're ready to go, Billy." He pulled the door open and walked into the hall.

Outside, he collapsed against the wall, using it to support all his weight. Walt had a daughter. That little girl, no older than Jake for sure, was Tim's sister. It was too much to process all at once.

Tyra appeared at his side, placing her hand on his arm. "How'd it go?" she asked.

"Fine," Tim said, still reeling from the shock. "Where's Jake?"

"He's playing video games in the waiting room," Tyra explained. "Should I get him?"

Tim shook his head. "No, we're done in there."

Tyra slid her hand into Tim's. "I don't want to make this any harder for you than it already is, but do you think Jake should meet his grandfather? He's the only one he'll ever have, Tim."

"Well, he's got an aunt in there," Tim spat out. "We should make those introductions."

Tyra stared up at him. "What?"

"He had another kid." Tim shook his head in disbelief. "She's got to be around Jake's age, maybe a year or two younger. You realize what that means? While Billy and I were trying to figure out how we were going to live, while I was wondering if Billy was going to live at all, Walt was down here living it up with his new family. I can't believe I..." Tim turned suddenly and smashed his hand into the wall.

"Hey..." Tyra said as she reached up for his arm.

"Tim?"

They turned as Anne exited Walt's room.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Jade earlier, but Walt didn't even want me bothering you at all. And I just...I just wasn't sure what to do."

"Walt has that affect on people," Tim replied.

"Hi, I'm Tyra, Tim's wife," Tyra said as she held her hand out.

Anne reached out and took Tyra's hand. "Anne Riggins. It's good to meet you."

"I'm sorry about your husband. I only met Walt once, when Tim was in middle school, but I can't imagine how hard it is to lose someone you love this way."

Tim watched Tyra, so soothing and gentle even with this woman who had brought so much turmoil into their lives. He wished he could be like her. He wished he had it in him to forgive Walt.

"Thank you," Anne replied softly. "Tim, your dad would really like a chance to talk to you."

Tim stood there for a moment, then shook his head. "No, there was a time for that and it's too late. Be sure and tell him that for me." He couldn't do it. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Turning, he looked down the hall at the waiting room. "You can take him in there, Tyra, if you think that Jake needs it, but I'll be down in the truck. You all come down when you're done."

And with that Tim turned and walked out of the hospital.

* * *

  
"He's back here, Coach."

Eric Taylor followed the desk clerk down the hallway, waiting as the young man unlocked the hotel room door.

"Thank you for calling me," Eric said quietly. "I know you could have called the press—or the police."

The young man nodded slowly. "I was in the stands when you won the state championship with Riggins and Smash. And my brother—he got messed up in this stuff too. I'm just glad you could come down here."

Eric paused before he went into the dark room. "Yeah, me too."

He walked over to the bed where Smash lay, his clothes filthy. There was a stench of body odor, vomit and urine in the room.

"Smash," Eric said as he drew closer to the football player. "C'mon, Williams."

Smash slowly began to stir. "Coach Taylor?'

"You okay, there, son?" Eric asked. He'd heard about Smash's troubles with drugs, but nothing prepared him for the sight of the wide receiver lying prone on the bed. It looked like Smash had been on a long bender this time. "People been wonderin' where you are. You've had your mom real worried."

"Ah, I'm sorry about that," Smash slurred out. "I just had these guys I had to..."

"It's okay, Brian."

"So, you just tell my momma that you saw me and I'm doin' just fine," Smash finished.

Eric stood over the bed and shook his head. "Well, I don't know about that, Smash. You sure don't look fine. You look like you might need some help."

Smash struggled to sit up, his body limp as he supported all of his weight on his arms. He shook his head. "Nah, sir. I'm fine. I'm just fine."

"Well, that's kind of too bad, because I was hoping you might take a ride with me," Eric replied.

"A ride where?" Smash asked. "I think I'm doin' real good here."

Eric slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, his breath catching as the odors around him seemed to swallow him up. "You're not doin' real good, Smash. You're killing yourself and I want to help you."

"No one can help me now, Coach. You know that," Smash replied, suddenly changing his tune.

"If I believed that, I wouldn't be here," Eric replied. "It won't be easy, but you can get yourself out of this, son. Let me help you."

Eric reached out his hand to his former player. </i>Take it</i>, he silently pleaded.

Smash remained still on the bed for a moment, then looked up, his eyes filling with tears. Silently he reached out and grabbed Eric's hand.

* * *

  
Jason reached in the cooler for a couple of drinks—beer for him, non-alcoholic beer for Tim. He passed one over to Tim who was sitting against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him.

"How long you think we can stretch this play stupid act?" Tim asked.

Jason laughed and looked at the crib still in pieces across the garage floor. "I'd say at least a beer or two." He smiled and clinked bottles with Tim.

Tim picked up the instruction sheet and looked at it with a furrowed brow. "Tyra's going to tell me to call Landry, just you wait."

"We'll put it together. I want to," Jason said. "I just wanted to, you know, catch up a bit first."

"Ask me how I'm dealing with the daddy-issues?" Tim prompted.

Jason shrugged, his cheeks feeling warm suddenly. "That obvious?"

Tim nodded. "You're an open book, Street."

They were quiet for a minute, both sipping their drinks, then Tim cleared his throat.

"It was...I don't know. Pretty rotten I guess." He looked at Jay, his eyes dark. "Walt's got this perfect little family. Nice wife, sweet kid. Managing the golf course now, if you can believe that. If he wasn't half in the ground, it'd be easy to hate him."

Jason stared down at his hands, then looked up at Tim who was looking off into the distance. "I'm sorry, Timmy. That's got to be tough."

Tim shrugged and tipped his beer to his lips. "Whatever, not like I wanted some big reunion. I just went for Billy."

Jason heard the words, but he didn't believe them. He was sure a big part of Tim wanted to think he'd done this for his brother, but Jason knew better. Walt was a big issue for Tim, always had been. There should've been some closure here; a way to let Tim move past this once and for all. Instead he'd found out that he had a sister and things seemed worse than ever.

"I don't know what to say," Jason said pathetically. He smiled at Tim, who gave him a lopsided smile in return. "If you need anything..." His voice faded.

Tim's voice was rough when he replied. "I know."

"I mean it, Tim," Jason added, forcing his voice to stay firm and strong. "Anything, anytime. I'm here for you."

Tim nodded and tipped his bottle back to his lips, his eyes sliding away from Jason's face again. Jason didn't try to push the issue further. He hoped that Tim knew how he felt—that Jason would support him no matter what. Hopefully that was enough.

* * *

  
"Do you think it's bad luck to work on the nursery already?" Lyla asked as she dipped her paint brush in the paint can.

"If you want your baby to sleep in a crib I think you've started at just the right time," Tyra replied as she brushed her hand across her face. "I don't want to challenge Tim or Jason's manhood, but I'm feeling pretty lucky that I had Landry to assemble all of Jake's beds. Those two are pretty much useless."

Lyla reached over and wiped a dot of paint off Tyra's cheek. "Well, it's a fatal combination of disabilities. Jason can't use a screwdriver and Tim can't read directions."

Tyra laughed. "Well, at least Jason has a legitimate reason. It's not that Tim can't read the directions, it's that he won't."

"Mom," Jake said as he walked into the room.

"What babe?" Tyra asked as she set her paintbrush down on the edge of the paint can.

"Uncle Jason said that they need an interpreter. What's that?" Jake asked.

Tyra and Lyla laughed.

"It means you should call your Uncle Landry," Tyra explained.

"Okay," Jake said before he turned and headed out into the hall. He ran back to the garage where Jason and Tim were working yelling, "Dad! Mom says we have to call Uncle Landry 'cause you guys don't know how to make a crib!"

"Oh, you're going to pay for that one," Lyla said as she laughed.

"You didn't hear the two hour lecture on the way here about how awesome Tim and Jason were going to be at crib construction," Tyra responded. "I'm loving it. It's good practice for when we need one set up."

Lyla looked at her sharply but Tyra already had her hand raised up in defense.

"No, no, not yet anyway," she said, but she was smiling. "We talked about it some more though. I think he's getting there."

"Did it help to go visit his father?" Lyla asked.

Tyra frowned. "Not really. I think it made it worse. But I talked to Anne, and told her we'd love to have her and Jade up some weekend. After...well, Walt's not going to be around much longer." Tyra sighed. "It's a mess."

"You'll get through it," Lyla said. She wanted Tyra and Tim to be happy. And Tyra was so good with Jake. She deserved to have another baby with Tim there to experience everything this time around. Plus it would be so great for them all to have kids that were around the same age.

They painted quietly for a few moments when Tyra spoke up softly. "We're so happy for you guys. I hope you know that."

Lyla smiled at her friend. "We never would have gotten here without all of your support."

Tyra moved over and hugged Lyla. It still felt surreal sometimes that it was finally happening for her and Jason. They had tried for so long without ever seeing a positive pregnancy test. And now they were 21 weeks into the pregnancy and things were going great.

"Ah," Lyla said as she stepped back, her hand resting lightly on her rounded stomach.

"Everything okay?" Tyra asked.

"Just a couple of Braxton-Hicks," Lyla replied. "I've had them for a couple of days. The doctor says I have an irritable uterus."

"Do you want to sit down?" Tyra said, her voice filled with concern.

"No, I'll be fine," Lyla replied. She gasped and reached for Tyra's arm. "Oh, that was stronger."

"Let's lay down in your room," Tyra said. "And get you a drink of water. That always helped when I had early contractions with Jake."

"Okay," Lyla said, her voice now filling with fear. That pain had been different than the others.

"Do you want me to get Jason?" Tyra asked, as she slipped her arm around Lyla's waist.

"No," Lyla said, shaking her head. "I don't want to worry him." And she didn't—it was the last thing she wanted, but she was scared. This pain was different than the others. What was happening to the baby?

* * *

  
_Four Years Later_

Tami tore apart a tissue in her hands, letting her tears fall free down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe his life was over. Taken so early, so unfairly. How did God pick and choose who got to survive and who he stole away too early?

It wasn’t fair. He deserved to still be here. He was one of the good guys.

She shook her head and reached for another tissue, her tears falling to the tabletop. She had to call Julie again, maybe drive down there. She couldn’t stay here alone. Not today. She had to see her baby girl.

_/tbc/_   


* * *

  
**Disclaimer** : All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.  
 **Authors' Note** : Thanks once again to our beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[**devilc**](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).


	5. The Funeral: Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[devilc](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).

**Title** : The Funeral: Chapter 5  
 **Authors** : [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_wilder**](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
 **Summary** : Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**The Funeral  
Chapter 5**

  
_May, 2021_

Lyla sat fingering the heavy paper of the baby shower invitation.

_Please join us for a brunch honoring  
the mother-to-be  
Tyra Riggins_

  
She ran her fingers across the embossed letters. She wanted to be happy for Tim and Tyra. She knew that they were so excited about the baby. She really, really wanted to be happy for them.

But as the tears slid out of her eyes again, she knew she couldn't be. It just wasn't fair.

_Doctor Anderson laid her hand on Lyla's arm. "I know this is going to be hard, but I am going to need you to push."_

_Lyla looked over to the right where Jason sat next to her, his hand holding hers. She turned her head back to look at the ceiling and then closed her eyes._

_This wasn't happening. It wasn't._

_"Okay, Lyla. I need you to push now."_

_She wouldn't push. She wouldn't push out the baby who was supposed to stay inside of her and grow for seventeen more weeks. She wouldn't push her baby out into the world so that he would take one or two breaths into his lungs that weren't ready and then he would..._

_"C'mon Lyla," the doctor instructed._

_She felt Jason's fingers tighten around hers as well as he could. She had tried so hard to stop this from happening. She had taken any medication they would give her, been willing to stay in bed until he was ready to be born._

_Non-viable. It was such a cruel word. He was her son, he wasn't non-viable._

_She wasn't going to push this baby out of her so that the only thing he would do was die._

_But her body wouldn't listen and before she could stop it, the baby slid from between her legs. There was a weak cry and then he was in her arms._

_He was perfect. Why weren't they trying to save him?_

_She eased on her side and the baby lay next to her so that Jason could see him and touch his fragile skin. It was like tissue paper and she could see the pulse of his heart in the soft spot at the top of his tiny head._

_"He's gorgeous," Jason said as he touched the baby's tiny arm._

_She looked down and watched as the baby took one shallow breath, then another and then stopped._

_His heart stopped._

_Hers broke._

"You don't have to go," Jason said as he wheeled his chair up next to hers.

Lyla looked over at him. "I think I want to, but I can't, Jason. I just can't. I can't go and be happy for someone who is getting everything I'm never going to have. Not even if it's Tyra."

It was selfish of her. And she knew it.

"The clinic called again. They have an opening," Jason said quietly.

She turned her head and looked at him. Is this what they were going to do now? Just keep trying to have a baby? With the IVFs that failed and the babies that died. Was this going to define them now?

"I think I need to wait," Lyla responded. "I just need to wait for a while."

Jason held his arms out and with one movement she slid into them, onto his lap. With his head against her chest, her head laid against his, the sobs wracked her chest as her heart broke one more time.

She thought that the night Jason was hurt was the hardest thing she would ever face, but it was nothing compared to losing Jesse. As Jason's arms closed around her, she could feel again how small and tiny he was and how empty her arms had felt when they finally took him away.

He had been perfect—ten fingers and ten toes. He just came too soon.

The doctors hadn't been able to give her a good reason why it had happened and hadn't been able to tell her that it wouldn't happen again.

The months since Jesse died had been gray and empty. She kept working, taking on more projects, spending more time on the road, doing anything she could to not be in the house with that half painted nursery.

Finally she had come home from a trip to find that Jason's parents had come while she was gone and helped Jason put the crib and nursery furniture away and they had painted the room a light taupe color.

"We'll paint it again," Jason had said when she saw the room and in some ways it was like Jesse had died all over again, but in other ways it made it possible to just forget that he ever was.

She needed to forget that he ever was her baby.

* * *

  
Julie pushed her hair off her forehead, sticky in the heat of the kitchen. She placed a tray of tart shells fresh from the oven on a rack and turned the mixer on to whip the cream cheese filling. A second tray was cooled and ready to be filled, while a third waited for her to place tiny pink and blue bootie candies on top.

She must have been crazy to plan a baby shower for Tyra.

A knock on the door disrupted her concentration as she measured icing sugar for the filling. "Come in," she yelled without looking at the door.

It was probably her mother with the decorations, or maybe Matt was back early with the boys.

"Well, well, if it isn't the little woman baking in the kitchen. You are really fulfilling the stereotype in here."

Julie snapped her head around, then broke into a wide grin. "Landry!" she squealed, spreading icing sugar across the front of his shirt as she hugged him tightly. "What are you doing here?"

"Apparently becoming a tasty confection," Landry said dryly, glancing down at the front of his shirt.

Julie laughed and swiped at Landry's chest with a cloth. "You'll survive. Seriously! What are you doing in Dillon? I thought you were on tour."

"Well Tyra mentioned the baby shower-thing, and we were playing in Austin, so..."

"We? Is Ken here?" Julie looked behind Landry towards the door.

"He is. He's at my parents right now baking bread with my mom, if you can believe that."

Julie laughed. "Oh I can, he's definitely the chef in the family."

"Ha, ha. You burn a steak one time..." Landry raised his hands in defense.

Smiling, Julie stared at Landry for a moment. She'd missed talking to him, having him be part of her life. They were still friends, sure, but Matt had gotten Landry in the separation, so to speak.

Separation—she hated that word. It sounded so lonely; like the two people wished they could be one, but instead they were forced apart. At least, that's how she felt about her marriage; Matt on the other hand...Julie had no idea.

She turned back to her baking for a moment, wishing she could ask Landry if Matt had said anything to him lately. Wishing the lines between her and her husband weren't so clearly drawn.

"You got any coffee around here?" Landry asked, opening the cupboards to peer inside.

"Um, first shelf, right there," Julie said, pointing.

Landry stared at the open cupboard and shook his head. "Not unless you're keeping it in baby food jars."

"What? Oh, I guess Matt must have moved it. I...just...look around I guess?" She shrugged and tried to keep her tone light, but she knew her emotions were written all over her face.

This was supposed to be her house. Hers and Matt's and their children's. Not a place she had to ask permission to hold a baby shower in. Her tiny apartment near the school wasn't big enough to have overnight guests, let alone a party. Although Matt had said yes readily; Julie just wished it wasn't a factor at all.

"Ah, who needs his stale beans, let me take you out."

"I can't, I've got so much to do, and..." Julie stopped and pressed her hand to her mouth. She was not going to cry over miniature tarts!

But Landry could read her better than that. He stepped forward and put his arm around her shoulders. Hugging her to his chest gently, he brushed her hair back with his hand.

"I was wondering how long you could keep it up," he said kindly.

"Oh, about a year now, I think," Julie replied. She looked up at Landry through teary eyes. "I want him back so bad."

"I know, I know." Landry held her for another moment, then pushed back on her shoulders gently but firmly. "So what are you doing about it?"

"About us?"

"Yes, about you and Matt and your family and this house, which, might I say, could use the tender loving care of a woman."

Julie sighed and moved away to sink down in a chair at the kitchen table. "We were going to therapy, but it was the same scene every week—him stonewalling me while I tried to explain why. It was awful."

Landry sat down near her and reached his hand out to grasp hers. "I don't think he knows what to do here. He can't be the one to give in."

"So what do I do?"

"Well, you could just wait him out, or you could go get him back." Landry raised him eyebrows at Julie in a challenge. "You in?"

"What are you planning, Landry Clarke?"

"Julie Taylor Saracen. I have ways of getting to that boy that you haven't even heard of yet. You just wait until we're through with him. He'll want you like that first day back in high school."

Julie smiled; she couldn't help herself with Landry bursting with plans and anticipation. But deep inside she was worried that this was just a welcome distraction. When it came down to it, Matt didn't trust her anymore. He accepted post-partum depression, but he couldn't accept cheating. And he'd probably never get over that fact; grand plans of Landry or not.

* * *

  
"So, you played JV this year, Jake?" Eric Taylor asked.

"Yes, sir," Jake replied. "Coach might have me stay on if we go into play-offs. But just for the practice squad."

Tim smiled as he watched his son chatting with his old coach. It was like Eric was coaching Jake's own team—the confidence Eric had in Jake was obvious, and Jake was lapping it up.

"Glad to hear it," the coach replied. "You got a chance of going to districts?"

"Yes, sir," Jake responded. "We lost to Bishop Flynn, but that was only the second game of the season and we won the rest of them."

"Well, good luck and keep up with the weights," Eric recommended.

"I can almost bench as much as Dad," Jake said proudly.

Tim laughed as Eric smiled.

"I bet you can," Eric replied.

"I'm going to go put those gifts in the car for mom," Jake told his father.

"Sounds good," Tim replied.

"That's a good kid you got there, Tim," Eric said as Jake headed toward the living room to get the gifts.

Tim watched Jake load himself down with presents. He was almost more excited than them for the baby to arrive. "It's all Tyra," Tim answered.

"Children are a blessing," Eric responded. "Even when they're taxing you."

"How is Julie?" Tim asked. "I saw Matt with the boys earlier."

Eric shrugged. "Good, I guess. She and Matt are doing some couples therapy thing I think. I'm just glad she's back here with her boys."

Tim nodded his head. "She'll regret it if she misses this time with them. I..."

"Yeah," Eric replied awkwardly.

Eric had spent more time with Jake in his younger years than Tim had. But Tim wasn't going to let those memories spoil today, or the upcoming arrival of their baby. He was going to be there for every moment this time.

"So, how are Jason and Lyla doing?" Eric asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

Tim shrugged. "I haven't...I haven't talked to them for a little while." He looked down at his feet.

Eric paused. "Is something the matter?"

Tim looked over at Tyra talking with Tami, her hand unconsciously resting on her growing stomach.

"It's cause of the baby—and I understand it, I think, but it's not right." Tim shook his head. "Friends are supposed to be there for each other, aren't they?"

"Well, son, sometimes the best thing you can do for your friends is give them some space. What Jason and Lyla went through..." Eric's voice trailed off.

"Yeah, Jesse died the same week as Walt."

Eric was silent, then took a long sip of his drink. "I was sorry to hear about your father, Tim. I know it was a tough situation."

"It's not like he was around enough to miss," Tim replied, his voice taking on a bitter edge.

_Tim walked down the hospital hallway next to Billy. He couldn't believe he was back in Corpus Christi again. After the last time, he'd sworn he was done with Walt and his new family. But Billy had asked to go visit 'dad' again, and there was no other way for him to get there._

_As they passed the small waiting room down the hall from Walt's room, Billy stopped and turned back suddenly._

_"Hey, Jade," Billy said, walking into the waiting room._

_Tim stopped too and looked in at Walt's daughter, at his half-sister. He still wasn't ready to deal with the fact that Jade was related to him. It was still too raw to process._

_"Can I color too?" Billy was saying, kneeling down on the floor next to the little girl._

_"Sure," Jade replied, pushing a pile of crayons in Billy's direction._

_"Uh, Billy, you wanted to visit Walt, remember?" Tim said. He didn't come all this way so Billy could play with the kid._

_"That's okay, you can go without me," Billy replied._

_Tim fumed. He'd had no intention of going in there at all. But what was he supposed to do now? Just wait around until Billy got tired of coloring and then try to sneak out without Anne ever knowing they were here?_

_"My mom's in there with the doctor now," Jade said quietly. "I think my dad might be dead."_

_"That's sad," Billy said, coloring a tree bright blue._

_Tim sank down in a chair. Leaning forward on his knees, he buried his head in his hands. Walt was dead? And lying just a few doors away? He couldn't do this. He couldn't be here to comfort the grieving widow when Anne came out of that room._

_Standing, he dug his keys out of his pocket. "Come on Billy, we should go."_

_"But Jade will be here all alone."_

_Tim rubbed his eyes. Everything in his being told him to get out of there. To run from Walt and his family as hard and as fast as he could. But then he looked down at Jade, her long brown hair the same color as Jake's, her eyes a beautiful brown like Billy's. Like it or not, she was part of Tim's family. And their father was abandoning her just like he had abandoned Tim and Billy. Granted Walt couldn't be blamed for this one, but it was still going to hurt._

_Slowly, Tim sat back down in a chair. "Okay, we'll stay for a bit."_

_Jade looked up from her coloring, staring right at Tim. "Are you my uncle?" she asked. "You look really old."_

_Tim let a small smile escape. Some days he felt really old. He paused, unsure of what to say to her, then realized there was only one thing to say. He'd been acting like one for years, but never truly been able to say it before._

_"No," he said, his voice soft. "I'm your big brother."_

Tim shook off the memory of Walt's death. "At least I got to meet Jade. Her and Anne came up to visit a few weeks ago. She's pretty pumped to be an aunt...again."

Eric smiled then fell silent again, staring into his drink.

"Jason will come around. You just give him time. He'll come around."

"Maybe, Coach." Tim looked across the room at Tyra and Tami. Tami had her hand on Tyra's shoulder and his wife looked like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. It wasn't fair; this was supposed to be a happy time for them. And he wanted Jay and Lyla to be able to share it with them.

Maybe they'd stop by Austin on their way home. Maybe Jason and Lyla would be up for a visit from old friends.....

* * *

  
Corinna Williams slowed her car as she passed by the Saracen house. She suddenly remembered that the baby shower for that Collette girl was today, and she'd promised she would come. Well, Tami Taylor would understand why she couldn't make it. She and Eric had been the driving force behind getting Brian into rehab this time. She knew they'd understand the pressure she felt to make sure he stayed healthy.

Swinging onto her street, she pulled into her driveway and parked. On the seat beside her lay a bag full of vitamins and protein bars. All things Brian 'needed' according to him. Corinna smiled and grabbed the bag as she climbed out of the car. It sure beat what he'd needed a few months back.

_"Mrs. Williams, you understand that your son will never be cured, not completely."_

_Corinna gritted her teeth and stared down at the little pipsqueak of a doctor. Did they graduate kids early just to fill positions in this state or something?_

_"I've been a nurse for over twenty-five years. Don't you be telling me what my son can and can't be cured of, Doctor. You just let me take him home and fill his belly with something more than that piece of cardboard chicken you people give him, and he'll be just fine."_

_In her heart, she knew it would take a lot more than a meal of collard greens to bring Brian back to health, but she was committed to doing whatever it took. Even if that meant cancelling her trip to Jamaica and converting a guest room in her house to a workout area for him. She was going to get boy healthy again no matter what it took._

_"Momma?"_

_She looked down the hall as Brian approached her, carrying his suitcase with him. "I told you I'd call a cab."_

_"Nonsense," she replied, brushing an invisible piece of lint from his shirt. "You have any idea how much a cab from Dallas to Dillon can run you?"_

_"Dillon? No, Momma. I can't..."_

_"You can and you will," Corinna replied firmly. "You are my son. My baby boy." She took his face in her hands, staring deep into his eyes. What she saw there wasn't the same broken boy Eric Taylor had hauled into rehab three months before. Instead, she saw the little boy she'd once nursed back to health after the chicken pox. The teenager who was full of fire and fight but always came home to his momma on Friday nights. "I know that things feel like they'll never be right again, but you come on home with me. We'll figure it out together."_

_Brian shook his head. "I should go back to NewYork, see if I can salvage my career."_

_Corinna reached and put her hand on her son's arm. "Brian, your agent called last week—they released you." She didn't want to hurt him any more than he had already been hurt, but it wouldn't do to keep the truth from him._

_Brian slowly shook his head. "Yeah—not a big surprise there. I mean, I'm lucky they kept me as long as they did."_

_"But Coach Taylor wants you to call him when we get home. He's not giving up on you, baby and I'm not either."_

_"Thanks, Momma," Brian replied._

"Brian?" Corinna called out as she walked into the house. "You know some of your old friends are back in town this weekend. That Riggins boy, and probably the Streets I guess."

"Yeah," Smash said as he met his mother in the kitchen. "Tyra's having another baby. Guess they are all celebrating or whatever."

Corinna looked at her son sadly. He was healthy again, at least physically, but there was something missing in his spirit. He'd lost his spark.

"Why don't you call over there? Coach Taylor is back in town too."

That generated a little interest in her son, but it faded quickly. He focused his attention on the bottles in the bag, organizing them on the countertop.

"Brian?" she said quietly. "Why haven't you called him?"

"Coach?" Smash replied. "I don't know what difference that's gonna make."

"No, Kevin," Corinna said. Brian looked up at her quickly and she smiled. "I know you miss him. And I'm sure he misses you too."

"I don't think so, Momma. I think I pretty much ruined it with him."

"Then why did he e-mail me asking how you were doing last week?"

"He..."

Corinna nodded, the look on her son's face displaying all of his feelings. Part of caring for your children was looking after their mental well-being too. And her son needed that boy in his life. He was the best thing that had happened to Brian in a long time, including all the accomplishments his football career had brought him. Football had also brought him to his knees. But Kevin had only loved him; loved him too much to see him hurt himself any longer.

Passing her son the telephone, she walked out the room. She smiled as she heard him begin to dial.  
  


* * *

  
"Thanks again for the shower," Tyra said as she continued packing up the gifts she'd received. "I didn't really have this kind of a party when I had Jake."

"You're welcome, Tyra," Tami said as she slid the cards into an open box. "It was really nice. I wish Lyla had been able to come."

"Yeah," Tyra said quietly. "Me too."

"Have things gotten any better?" Tami asked. "Have you spoken to her at all?"

Tyra shook her head. Tim had called Jason at Christmas time, but Lyla had been asleep, or so Jason had said. There hadn't been any real communication between them since last fall. Since Jesse.

"I'm sorry, honey," Tami said as she laid her hand on Tyra's arm.

Tyra's hand rested on her expanding belly. "Yeah, me too. I hate to think of them going through all this alone. But I feel like I'm throwing it in their face."

"No, don't say that. You deserve to be happy, Tyra. You can't change what happened to Jesse."

"I know. I knew it would be hard. I mean, we were there when they lost the baby," Tyra said. "But I didn't think this would happen—Jay hasn't spoken to Tim in almost five months."

"What happened?" Tami asked, her voice filled with concern.

Tyra shrugged. "I'm not sure. I don't think they're even upset with each other. I think Jason just has to do what he can to keep Lyla as safe as possible. She's really fragile, Mrs. Taylor. I don't think they had any idea how hard it would be to have a baby and now here we're just having another one."

"But Tim must be really excited," Tami pointed out. "After all, he missed all of this last time."

"I know," Tyra replied. "And I wish he could just let this go and enjoy the baby, but losing Jason the first time was one of the darkest times of his life. I don't know if he can get over it again and it's hard not to be upset with them, because we didn't do anything wrong."

Tami pulled Tyra close to her again. "It'll be okay, honey."

"I don't think so," Tyra replied, her head tucked into Tami's shoulder. "I just don't think so."

Tyra bit her lip to keep the tears from falling. She looked up when she felt a hand massage her neck gently.

"Jake's got everything loaded up in the truck," Tim said, smiling down at her.

Tyra wiped at her eyes and shot Tami a small smile. "I think he's scouring the bag for a present for him."

"Like that game I picked up this morning," Tim said, grinning.

Tami laughed and stood up. "Any good parent knows the secret to having one happy child, is having two happy children."

She patted Tyra on the shoulder as she moved away, the gesture reassuring.

Tyra looked back at Tim, smiling sadly. "She saw right through my tough-guy act," she explained. "I told her about Lyla and Jason."

"Yeah, Coach hasn't lost any of his special intuition either," Tim replied. "But we'll be fine. Jake's a good kid." He slid his hand over the baby growing inside of her stomach. "And this one will be too."

Tyra leaned into Tim's shoulder. "Are you happy we're having her?"

Tim tipped his head toward her face. "Her? Is that just to stop from calling the baby 'it'?"

Tyra smiled at her husband and shook her head.

"Seriously?" Tim asked, a smile crossing his face.

Tyra nodded her head, a couple tears sliding from her eyes.

Tim reached up and brushed the tears away. "Hey, I'm happy. Aren't you happy?"

Tyra nodded, her face still tipped up in a smile. She kissed Tim gently. "I just wish..."

Tim folded his hand around hers. "Yeah, me too."

"I want them to be her godparents. I want them to be her aunt and uncle like they've been to Jake."

Tim slid his arm around Tyra's shoulders and pulled her close to him. "Then we'll just wait and we'll know that they're her godparents and hopefully someday they'll be ready to know it as well."

* * *

  
Smash looked up at the sound of a car door closing in the driveway. He pushed his chair back from the kitchen table and headed for the door.

"Coach," he said as he walked out the front door. He stuck his hand out, shaking the coach's hand as Eric reached the steps.

"You're looking a lot better, son," Eric said as he shook Smash's hand.

"Yep," Smash said as he took a step back and leaned against the front of the house. "Better every day, I guess."

"Your mother tell you that I called?"

Smash nodded. "Sorry, I should have called you back."

"That's okay. It wasn't an order or anything," Eric replied. "But when you're ready, you give me a call. One of my assistants up at Denton is working for the Texans organization now. If and when you think you're ready, you give me a call and I'll talk to him."

Smash nodded. Staying sober was a challenge every day, but not playing football was even harder. Playing in Houston wouldn't be like playing for the Giants, but it would be football.

"Well, I better get back over to that shower before Tami figures out I'm AWOL," Eric said as he stepped back down off the front porch.

Smash nodded. "Hey, thanks Coach," he added as Eric headed for his car. "Thanks for everything."

* * *

  
_Three Years Later_

Tim looked down at the numbers on the page of the address book. He wondered if it was still the same number.

He carefully dialed the number—the number he had once been able to dial in his sleep.

The phone rang and rang and then someone picked up.

"Six?"

_/tbc/_   


* * *

  
**Disclaimer** : All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.  
 **Authors' Note** : Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[**devilc**](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).


	6. The Funeral: Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[devilc](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).

**Title** : The Funeral: Chapter 6  
 **Authors** : [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_wilder**](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
 **Summary** : Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**The Funeral  
Chapter 6**

  
_August, 2024_

Julie stood just inside the front door of the funeral home. Matt had come out twice to ask her to come inside where the urn filled with ashes was sitting on display along with all the photographs from a long career, but she just couldn't, not yet. Not until everyone who had loved and been so close to him had arrived.

The door swung open and Julie heard a low murmur run through the few people standing outside the doorway. Brian 'Smash' Williams was still a famous person in Dillon, even though he was now retired from the NFL.

"Julie Taylor," Smash said quietly, bending slightly to hug her.

"Julie Saracen," Julie corrected him, forcing a smile to her tired face. Her body ached just from the effort of standing. It seemed like weeks had passed since that terrible phone call—weeks of plans and tears and decision she never thought she would be the one making—but it was really only a few days. And now all that was left to do was grieve.

"Matt here?" Smash asked.

"He's inside, with..." Julie couldn't say it. Couldn't bring her mouth to say his name yet.

Smash gripped her hand tightly then walked away to pay his respects. Just behind him Julie recognized some former Panthers filing morosely into the viewing area. He hadn't lived here in a long time, but a funeral always drew a crowd in Dillon.

Especially the death of one so revered in this town.

The door opened again and Tim and Tyra walked in. They were both wearing dark sunglasses; Tim practically holding Tyra's body upright with his strong arm.

Julie pressed her hand to her mouth as Tyra paused near her. She could barely bring herself to hug her grieving friend. It hurt too much to think about the impossibility of what had happened. How someone so strong could have been taken from her, from them.

"Any word from Jason and Lyla?" Julie finally asked, directing her question at Tim.

Tim gave a short nod, stopping to pull Tyra a little closer to him. "He said they'd try to get here."

Julie followed Tim's head as he turned to look at the crowd overflowing out of the largest viewing room the funeral home had. They had opened up the entire main floor, and yet it still wasn't enough room to hold everyone who wanted to pay their respects.

Stopping to give her a hug, while still holding Tyra to his side, Tim didn't say anything as he gripped Julie's shoulder tightly. And he didn't have to. Julie knew they felt exactly the same way—it didn't require words. She just had to remain strong and get through this day and the funeral tomorrow. Then this would be over and done with and she could go back to thinking it was all just a bad dream.

The door opened again and Julie saw a few of her coworkers from the school walking in. Then, right behind them, she recognized her mother's wheat blonde hair. Why was she alone? Julie had thought her Aunt Shelly would be bringing her mom over. She stepped forward; anticipating the grief when her mother's eyes met hers, and then stopped.

Her mother wasn't alone. Behind her, his hand firmly supporting her back like it had done for so many years, stood her father. Julie's eyes welled up at the sight of him. She'd thought he was away on a scouting trip and wouldn't be able to get back in time. But he'd made it. He knew how important this was to her and Matt, and he'd come through.

"Oh Jules," her mother said, hugging her daughter tightly.

Julie closed her eyes and leaned into her mother's embrace, a tear slipping free from each eye.

"It's okay, honey. It'll be okay," Tami whispered.

"He was a good man," her father added. "A damn shame. Damn shame."

But the words did little to ease Julie's torment. Damn shame didn't even come close to describing the death of Landry Clarke.

* * *

  
Jason followed Lyla up to the door of the office building. He watched as she paused at the door, took a deep breath and then pulled it open. The past few years had been hard for her—hard for both of them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Street?" A woman in a khaki skirt and a simple plaid blouse stepped forward. She held her hand out which Lyla took. "I'm Mrs. Wilson. I spoke to your husband on the phone yesterday."

"Thanks for coming in early," Jason said. "As I mentioned on the phone, we have a family emergency in Dillon, so we're hoping to get on the road as soon as possible."

Mrs. Wilson ushered them back into her office. "Yes, I understand. And as I said, this is somewhat unusual and frankly, since we spoke, it's become a bit more complicated."

"What's wrong?" Lyla said quietly as she sat down in front of Mrs. Wilson's desk.

The woman opened the folder on her desk. "Well, it's much as I said before—the mother does want to surrender her rights and place the baby now, but she's now shared some additional information."

Jason reached down and took Lyla's hand in his.

"There's a son—he's nearly 4 years old and she wants to place him as well." The social worker looked up from her paperwork. "This isn't how we traditionally do this, but if you agree to adopt both children, she's willing to waive her sixty days."

The sixty day waiting period. It had been the thing that had scared them the most about a domestic adoption. They had both heard horror stories about babies being taken away after they had bonded with the adoptive family. Finally Jason had told Lyla that they just had to have faith.

"The boy is in good health. He's been living with a foster family who was not able to adopt him. The mother really was taken with your profile and she asked if you would consider the additional placement."

Jason leaned in toward Lyla. "What do you think?" he asked.

She turned her head toward him, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes. "He's Jesse's age."

The social worker slid a photo across the desk toward them. "His name is Dylan."

Jason looked at Lyla, her eyes widened and a small smile played at the corner of her mouth. It had to be fate. He watched as Lyla reached out and pulled the photo closer. He had dark hair and dark eyes. He looked so much like Lyla.

"Dylan," he said, enjoying the sound of the word in his mouth. It felt right. It felt like it was meant to be.

He knew what he wanted, but would Lyla want it as well? She studied the photo, then turned to him.

"A son," she said quietly.

Mrs. Wilson slid another photo across the desk. "And a daughter."

A family, Jason thought. It was what they had been hoping, praying and working for.

"Yes," Jason said. "We should do it." He looked to Lyla for agreement. She smiled at him and nodded.

"Yes," she echoed.

* * *

  
Matt stood at the side of the room watching all the people file past him. Landry would have gotten a big kick out of this. Of course he would have expected a little Patsy Cline to be playing in the background.

"I don't mind the travel, but small planes freak me out. I don't really need to pull a Buddy Holly to be famous," Landry had said.

Matt reached up and brushed away the tear that formed at the corner of his eye. Damn it all, Landry, he thought.

_"Matt?"_

_The voice was familiar and the time of the call (2:30 am) had made him sit straight up in bed._

_"Mr. Clark?" he replied. "What? How? When?"_

_He sat quietly listening as Landry's dad explained about the plane crash in the mountains in Colorado._

_"What about Ken?" Matt asked._

_"He was with him, son," Mr. Clark said. "He's gone, too."_

_Matt finished the call and hung up. He picked up the remote control and turned on the news._

_"Local music star Landry Clark is believed to have died in a plane crash in the western Rocky Mountains. Clark, a graduate of Dillon High School, was the lead guitarist of the band Hometown Hero. Mr. Clark is survived by his parents, Chad and Dorothy Clark of Dillon."_

_Julie reached over and took his hand. "What happened?" she asked. "Is he really gone?"_

_Matt nodded. His best friend in the world. His heart was empty—he hadn't felt like this since his grandma died._

"Hey, Matt," Tami said as she walked up to him and took him in her arms. "I'm so sorry, honey."

Matt rested his head against her shoulder. He couldn't believe Landry was gone. Tami held him for a moment, then Matt took a half step back and reached his hand up to wipe the tears that had formed in his eyes.

"I don't know how I'm going to be able to say anything," Matt started. He reached up to his eyes again. "I can't stop..."

"Its okay, Matt," Tami replied. "It's natural. People will understand."

"You know, I'd never have had the nerve to ask Julie out if it wasn't for Landry," Matt said. "And honestly, I don't think we'd be back together now if it wasn't for him."

_Matt drove down the dirt road, looking out for the red mailbox. A red mailbox on a deserted country road—those were the directions Landry had given him when he called and asked Matt to meet him. Sometimes he wondered why he ever listened to Landry._

_His headlights picked up a flash of red partially hidden in the brush at the side of the road. He slowed and checked the numbers stuck to the side of the mailbox. This was it. He glanced down the darkened road to where the lights from the cabin illuminated the surrounding trees. Hadn't he been here once before?_

_As he eased his car down the driveway, really more of a rough path carved through the bushes, he cursed Landry up and down under his breath. Whatever reason Landry had for dragging him out to the middle of nowhere just so they could 'hang', it had better be a good one. Otherwise Matt was making him pay for the detail-job._

_Slipping his jacket on as he climbed out of the car, Matt blinked at the familiar cabin in front of him. He had been here before—a long time ago with Julie. It used to belong to Bradley Cole's uncle, maybe still did. But why was Landry here?_

_Matt reached up to knock on the door but it opened before he had a chance. Before him stood Julie, her blonde hair glistening in the light of dozens of candles placed around the room. Behind her Matt could see food spread on the ancient coffee table. A blanket hid the deer head still hanging on the wall after all these years._

_"What..." he stammered._

_"Landry helped me set it up," Julie blurted. "Don't be mad at him. He was trying to help."_

_Matt stepped inside, looking around at the detail that had obviously gone into this evening. He recognized his favorite beer sitting already opened on the table. A CD of classic Eagles music, his and Julie's favorite, played in the stereo. She had worked hard to create this scene._

_This scene of a happily married couple, which Matt and Julie were not._

_"I don't understand," Matt said, turning around to stare at his estranged wife._

_Julie was quiet, bowing her head away from him. When she looked up her eyes shone with tears. "Do you know what today is?" she said, her voice little more than a whisper._

_Of course he did. It was May 8th—their wedding anniversary. Exactly three years ago today they had gotten married in a quiet little ceremony in their home. The home they were supposed to raise their family in. The home that Matt now lived in with the boys while Julie stayed in a tiny one-bedroom apartment._

_"Julie..."_

_"Please, Matt. Please. Just give me a chance, I'm begging you. You don't have to enjoy it; you don't even have to stay all night. But Landry is with the boys and he promised not to call even if they screamed. Which, you know is never going to happen once he starts singing to them."_

_Matt smiled. EJ and Andrew really did love their 'Uncle' Landry._

_Walking over to the coffee table, Julie sunk down on one of the cushions resting on the floor. She looked up at Matt expectantly._

_"I want to try," she said softly. "Can't we just try?"_

_The door was so close. It would be so easy to turn around and leave and forget that his wife was still in love with him. But truthfully, he was still in love with his wife too. He'd tried not to be. Hell, he'd worked harder at that than he had at saving their marriage. But ultimately he was in love with Julie Saracen. She'd taken his name a long time ago, and he wanted her to have it forever._

_Approaching the table slowly, Matt avoided her eyes as he sat down. The beer was icy cold, just the way he liked it. All of his favorites were spread across the table and Julie looked as beautiful as she had 15 years ago when they first spent an evening in this same cabin._

_He raised his bottle to clink against her wine glass. "Happy Anniversary."_

"He loved both of you so much," Tami said as she put her hand up on his shoulder to comfort him. "And he knew how much you both loved him. He knew."

Matt nodded his head but inside he still felt empty. He didn't know if he would ever be able to fill this void.

* * *

  
Lyla reached over and slid her arm behind Jason shoulders, reaching up and massaging his neck lightly.

"You want me to drive?" she asked.

"I'm okay," Jason said as he looked over at her and smiled. "We should be there in a couple of hours."

"Do you think we should have warned your parents?" she asked, a half smile creeping across her face.

Jason shook his head. "No, but I want you to have the camera ready when they come out to the car."

"I wish my mom was going to be there," Lyla replied, wistfully. "What a time to go to Alaska on a cruise."

"I'm sure she'll get your message and call," Jason responded.

"Dad will probably close down the dealership for some sort of 'Welcome Dylan to Dillon' party." She paused and looked down at her hands. "After the funeral of course."

Jason's expression matched her own as she turned to look into the backseat of the car at their children. "How can something so happy happen at such a sad time?" she asked.

Jason took one hand off the steering wheel and reached over to touch her leg. "We'll just take it one day at a time. At least we'll get to see everyone again."

Jason didn't say his name, but she knew he was thinking about Tim. And Hannah, who they had never even met. She felt so horrible for carrying a grudge against the Riggins' for so many years. Her pain wasn't their fault. It was just so difficult to celebrate someone else's good fortune when she felt dead inside. She had to hope that Tyra and Tim would understand and forgive her...in time.

She looked back at her kids again. "I can't believe they're sleeping so soundly."

"It's been quite a day for them," Jason replied.

"For all of us," Lyla answered.

_Jason and Lyla waited in the small room next to the social worker's office. It felt like they'd been in there forever._

_Finally the door opened and Mrs. Wilson walked in with a baby in her arms and a small boy hanging onto her right hand._

_"Dylan, this is Mr. and Mrs. Street," she said as she paused a couple of feet away from Jason and Lyla._

_Dylan looked up at them shyly._

_"Hi, Dylan," Lyla said as she crouched down in front of the little boy. "I'm Lyla."_

_Dylan tucked his thumb in his mouth, then pulled it out and pointed at Jason. "Why's him like that?"_

_Jason pushed his chair forward so he was next to Lyla. "My legs don't work right, so it helps me get around."_

_Dylan stood silently and stared at the wheelchair._

_"Lyla?" Mrs. Wilson said._

_Lyla stood up as the social worker held the baby out to her. Lyla took her in her arms. She was so soft and little._

_"I'll go get the rest of their things," the social worker said. "Will you be okay here?"_

_Lyla nodded. They were her children now. Things would not necessarily be easy, but they were her family now._

"I wonder how Tyra is doing," Lyla said as she focused her eyes on the road ahead.

"Yeah," Jason replied, quietly.

"What do you want to do when we get to town?" Lyla asked.

Jason took a deep breath and let it out. "We should probably go straight over to Mom and Dad's, but once we get there, they won't let us out of their sight."

"I'd...I'd like to see Tyra tonight, if we can, just to see how she is," Lyla replied. "Would your mom and dad ever forgive us?"

Jason looked over at her quickly and smiled before turning his eyes back to the road. "I don't think there are any rules for this situation. Mom and Dad are going to be grandparents for the rest of their lives. I think tonight has to be about our friends—they need us now."

She looked over at him but the words remained unspoken. Had they waited too long?

* * *

  
"Hey, let's go sit over here," Tim said as he steered Tyra toward two chairs near the edge of the room. He could see the picture of Landry set up on a stand near the urn at the front of the room, flowers displayed all around. He didn't want to think about why they'd made the quick decision to cremate his body. He couldn't think of Landry that way.  
  
He took a look around the room, nodding at Smash who was standing across the room quietly talking to Coach. Mrs. Taylor was with Matt and Julie. And Six was missing again.

It had been three long years of Jason and Lyla taking a pass on everything, good and bad, in their friends' lives. He wanted to understand, but sometimes it was harder than others.

_Tim stood by the door to the gym waiting for the scrimmage to end. Finally the door pushed open._

_"Six," Tim said as he stepped forward toward Jason._

_Jason pulled up short._

_"I'd come down there, but I can't kneel anymore because of the new knee, plus, I tried that with you once before," Tim said, trying to keep his tone light._

_"What're you doing here, Tim?" Jason asked._

_Tim shrugged. "I guess I figured if I showed up here you wouldn't be able to ignore me." It had been months since they talked, longer since he'd seen Jay. He knew they were still dealing with Jesse's death, but he couldn't just stand by and not try to be Jason's friend. And he needed Jason to be his friend too._

_"I really need to get home to Lyla," Jason said._

_"Well, I've really needed to talk to my best friend for about ten months now," Tim replied._

_"Not fair, Riggins," Jason responded, his voice low and measured._

_"You think?" Tim replied. "I'm thinkin' the not fair part is a best friend who isn't there when your dad dies, when you find out about a sister you never knew you had. A friend who isn't there when your kid is born and might not even know he's supposed to be her godfather. It's a girl, in case you wondered. Her name is Hannah."_

_Jason looked down at his legs, unable to meet Tim's eyes. "I can't, Tim. You have to understand that."_

_"I guess I can't, Jay. What the hell is wrong with you?"_

_Jason looked up at Tim. "You have no idea how hard this has been for Lyla—how hard it's been for both of us. I know I'm not being the kind of friend you need, but I can't be happy for you and your new baby, not now, not with our son dead and we can't even seem to get pregnant again. It took me six months to get Lyla to agree to even try again and since then it's failed every single time. So, it's kind of hard to be so happy for you and your family when we're never going to have one."_

_"So let me be there for you—let us be there for both of you," Tim pleaded._

_Jason shook his head. "I wish it was possible, Tim, I really do, but not now."_

_Tim watched as Jason pushed down the hall and out the front door._

_He had tried. He didn't know what else he could do. Now he would just have to wait for Jason._

Beside him, Tim felt Tyra's shoulders shake. She was crying again. An improvement over the stonewall she'd been since that morning.

"You want to go up there?" he asked, gesturing toward the front of the room.

Tyra turned toward him, her face covered with half-dried tears. "Yeah, I...yeah, we should," she choked out.

He helped her up from the chair and they began to walk slowly, his arm tucked solidly around her waist.

None of this seemed possible.

_"Tim?"_

_It took him a minute to recognize the voice. "Julie?" he had said. "What's wrong?"_

_"They just called," she replied, her voice choking on the tears._

_"Who?" he asked. "Your mom? Is something wrong with Coach?"_

_"No, Tim," Julie responded. "It's Landry. There was a plane crash."_

_"What's going on?" Tyra asked, her voice still sleepy. "Who's on the phone?"_

_He held his hand up so she'd be quiet while he got the details. "Okay, we'll be there as soon as we can," he said before he hung up the phone._

_"What's the matter, Tim?" Tyra said as soon as he hung the phone up. "What happened?"_

_He just stared at her. He wasn't sure he could tell her, that he could hurt her this way. He took a deep breath and took her hands in his._

_"Tyra—it's Landry. He's gone."_

_Tyra shook her head at him. "No...no...he's coming here next week. We're taking the kids to Disneyworld before school starts. He's not...he's not..." Her voice broke down in tears._

_"What's wrong, Dad?"_

_Tim looked up and saw Jake standing in the doorway. He reached out his hand to Jake. His son crossed over and sat on the bed next to Tim and Tyra._

_"I'm so sorry, buddy," Tim said as he reached his free arm around his son._

_No one should have to go through this kind of loss at Jake's age. Landry was a second father to Jake. It had taken a long while for Tim to come to terms with that, but he knew how much Landry adored Jake and Hannah. She wasn't going to understand why 'Unca Andy' never came around anymore. None of them would ever get used to it._

The crowd before them parted and he and Tyra were suddenly standing in front of Landry's picture. It had been taken at his wedding five years before. Down in the corner of the frame was tucked a smaller picture of him and Ken. Beaming and smiling as they played onstage together at their last tour.

Tyra let out a low moan and Tim tightened his arm around her. Then her knees buckled and she slumped against his body.

"Tyra?" he called, sinking down with her so that she rested on the floor. He shook her face gently with his hand. She was out cold.

* * *

  
"Dad? I found a bottle of water."

Tyra listened as Jake spoke to Tim; Tim's reply coming low and hushed. She kept her eyes closed, relishing the relative peace and quiet for a few moments longer. She'd fainted, or that's what everyone was whispering when she reopened her eyes. She remembered being led to a couch in another room, and thankfully someone had placed a cold cloth on her forehead. Reaching up, she slid it down to cover her eyes.

"She's awake," Jake said.

"Why don't you give us another minute?" Tim replied.

The couch sunk as Tim sat near her waist. His hand was warm as it cupped her arm, kneading her skin softly.

"You coming back to us?" he asked.

Reluctantly, Tyra removed the cloth, blinking her eyes against the light. She stared at Tim, his face etched with worry. What a horrible thing to do to him today. He had to miss Landry too, but now all the attention was on her.

Tyra tried to push herself upright but Tim pressed on her shoulders.

"Not yet. You might have hit your head."

"I'm fine," she said, but didn't fight his stronger arms. Lying back against the small pillow, she stared up at him thoughtfully. "You know we're filthy rich, don't you?"

Tim looked confused.

Tyra let out a shrill laugh. "Landry. He left everything to us. I helped him go over his will last year." She laughed again, the giggles coming faster and higher.

"Tyra," Tim said cautiously.

"I mean, just think of it," she continued, her mind racing. "I can quit my job. Oh wait! I don't have a job anymore!" This was the funniest thing she had thought of in years, and it sent her laughter bubbling over.

Tim pushed off the couch, pacing to the other side of the small room and back.

Tyra watched him, still smiling widely. "You should keep your business though. The money will be tied up in court for months...years. But I bet we can put a down payment..."

"Stop it." Tim's voice was dark when he spoke, his tone reverberating off the walls.

"But don't you want a boat?" Tyra continued, nonplussed.

Tim sat down in a chair near the couch—close, but not touching her. His words were measured when he spoke. "Mrs. Taylor asked if you'd like to see a doctor. I said no, but..."

"You think I need to be drugged?" Tyra spat, sitting up quickly. Her head spun and she clutched her forehead.

Tim slid onto the couch beside her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Tyra shrugged him off, sliding to the far end of the couch. "Drugs are not going to make me forget Landry. And they're not going to change the fact that he's dead."

"Tyra, I..."

She shook her head, silencing her husband. A part of her knew Tim was right—this was too much to deal with on her own. A few pills to make her forget everything for a couple of hours, or a few days, sounded like exactly what she needed. But Landry couldn't forget what happened to him. He couldn't make any decisions anymore; couldn't eat, sleep, breathe. He was gone, and she wasn't going to let some doctor take away her right to ache for him.

Supporting her weight on the arm of the couch, Tyra stood up. The blackness was gone from her vision, her head steady and clear. She knew what she had to do. She had to be strong. For Landry.

"I need to be with him now," she said to Tim.

Standing, Tim approached her slowly, like he was afraid she might shatter.

She stared into his eyes, so full of concern for her. So sad for what they had both lost.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I'll be fine. I just have to get through this day, and the next day. And one day I'll wake up and maybe I won't think about him anymore." At her words, Tyra broke into fresh tears.

Tim's arms encircled her back, enveloping her in his embrace. His breath was soft on the top of her head, his touch soothing. It wasn't enough to make her forget the pain of losing her dearest friend, but it was a start. Together they'd get through anything. And thanks to Landry, their kids would have one hell of a head start in life.

* * *

  
"So...all of these people I've never seen before talkin' like they're Landry's best friend is starting to bug me," Matt said as he stood by the door of the viewing room with Smash, Tim, and Julie. "Anyone want to get out of here?"

Tyra looked up at him from where she sat on a chair near the exit. Viewing Landry's picture next to the urn, next to what was left of someone so vibrant, had been awful, but she'd done it. Now Tim wanted her to leave, but she couldn't, not yet. She wasn't ready to leave Landry alone with all these people—these strangers who wanted nothing more than to gawk at the spectacle of Landry's death. They weren't his friends; they were the ones who always wanted another piece of him, the ones who kept him on the road in tiny airplanes.

Smash coughed and shook his head. "You said it, Saracen."

"Yeah," Tim replied quietly.

"Okay, this is really sad," Julie interjected. "But I think that woman from _Entertainment Weekly_ is pretending to cry."

Tyra let a tight laugh out, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Tim placed his hand on her shoulder and gripped tightly. She wasn't going to lose it again.

"Nah, it is sad, Julie," Smash drawled. "But Landry would love it."

"The heck he would," Tyra said, looking around the room. "All of these people, being so fake, and it's all stuffy with the doom and gloom. I mean, it's what his parents wanted, but this isn't Landry."

"I just meant the fake crying, Tyra," Smash said quietly.

"Oh," Tyra said. Man, her nerves were on edge.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do," Julie said. "The viewing is almost over anyway. I'm going to call my mom, have her go pick up some food and you are all going to come over to our house. And in Landry's honor, Matt is going to wear his 'Member's Only' jacket."

Tim released Tyra's shoulder and began to unbutton his shirt.

"Whoa, Riggs...this is a family place," Smash said.

Tim kept unbuttoning his shirt until his 'Crucifictorious' t-shirt was exposed. "Figured I'd get big bucks for this on eBay some day."

Tyra smiled. In his own way, Tim really loved Landry. She was so lucky to have had them both in her life.

"We should go find the kids," Tyra said, standing up. "I think Jake took them outside to play."

"Sounds good," Julie said as she looped her arm through Matt's. "Let's go have the wake that Landry would have planned."

_/tbc/_   


* * *

  
**Disclaimer** : All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.  
 **Authors' Note** : Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[**devilc**](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).


	7. The Funeral: Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[devilc](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).

**Title** : The Funeral: Chapter 7  
 **Authors** : [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_wilder**](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
 **Summary** : Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**The Funeral  
Chapter 7**

  
_August, 2024_

Julie smiled gratefully at her father as he handed her a tray of food through the open door to the deck. EJ, Andrew and Hannah were impatiently banging their little fists on the kitchen table, chanting, "Hot Dogs! Hot Dogs!"

She had to smile. Her kids certainly did know how to take her mind off Landry's death.

Jade was seated next to Hannah and stood now to take the tray from Julie. "I can feed the kids," she said quietly.

"Are you sure?" Julie asked, but she was glad for the offer. She wanted to make sure Matt ate something—he'd been too quiet all day and she worried how much the funeral tomorrow was weighing on his mind.

"Yeah," Jade replied. "I want a chance to play with my niece." The tall brunette rubbed Hannah's long blonde hair lovingly.

"Well I'm glad you came over. And ask your mother to stop in when she comes back to get you, okay?" Julie had only met Anne once, but she knew that Anne and Jade had spent time with Landry over the past few years. It had to be hard on her as well.

Walking into the living room, Julie checked to see that everyone had a plate of food in their hands. Smash was talking with Tim in the corner. Her mother was asking Jake about football while both of them ate off the paper plates in their hands. And Matt sat next to Tyra on the couch, both of them holding plates of untouched food.

Julie walked over and sat down next to Matt. "You should eat," she said, looking at both him and Tyra.

Tyra looked down at her food and picked up a carrot stick. She took a half-hearted bite and then placed the rest on the coffee table.

"Tyra," Julie said.

But Tyra just shook her head.

Matt shoveled a forkful of coleslaw into his mouth. "Got to keep my strength up for the eulogy, right?"

His face looked almost green as he glanced down at his plate.

"Fine," Julie said, taking Matt's plate and placing it beside Tyra's. "But you both should eat something. A roll, maybe?"

Tyra gave a small smile and accepted the bread roll from Julie. It wasn't much, but Julie felt a small sense of satisfaction as Tyra took bird-sized bites from it.

"We are a pitiful bunch," Julie commented, looking around. "Landry would be so mad right now."

"You're right," Smash said, stepping closer. "You got any of that twangy country stuff he played?"

"Signed copies," Julie said proudly, reaching for the stereo remote. She pressed a button and an upbeat tune from _Hometown Hero's_ latest album wafted from the speakers.

They listened quietly for a moment, then Smash laughed. "I don't know how y'all listen to this stuff. But if it's Landry..."

"You get used to it," Tim replied gruffly.

"Yeah? Come on now, Riggs. You dance to this stuff in your tightie-whitie's every night. Tell the God's-honest-truth."

"In your dreams, Williams," Tim replied, a smile peaking at the corners of his mouth.

"What's your favorite song?" Tami asked no one in particular.

" _I Shot My Dog_ ," Jake and Tim replied in unison.

"That's a song?" Eric asked as he entered the room.

Jake laughed. "Uncle Landry wrote it for me after JoJo died. I was...twelve?"

"Yeah," Tim replied. "That dog was a pain in my ass."

"Tim!" Tyra said.

"Well you never got up to let him out at night. And he wouldn't stop barking."

"So anyway," Jake continued. "He got sick and we had to put him down. And I was bawling, and Landry said it was better than having to shoot him myself. Then he wrote the song."

"Oh that is positively awful," Tami said, but she was smiling.

"Mine is _As Big As Texas_ ," Julie said. " _My truck is as big as Texas. My house is as big as Texas. My name is as big as Texas. And my...duh, duh, duh..._ " She raised her arms up over her hand and belted out the last lyric. " _Hell yes, as big as Texas._ "

Everyone laughed; Smash let out a howl; and Matt looked at her like he couldn't believe she was the woman he had married.

"What?" Julie said innocently. "It's a good song!"

The track on the CD ended and a ballad started up. The clear notes from Landry's guitar could be heard before the gentle lyrics cut in.

"He wrote this one," Tyra said softly, laying her half-eaten roll aside. "When Hannah was born." She took in a long, shuddering breath but somehow managed not to cry.

"I remember that day," Julie said. "We were at his and Ken's cottage and Tim called us. You went early."

"Yeah," Tim chimed in. "We had to force him to take that vacation; he had been traveling so much. But he didn't want to miss the birth."

"Who knew I'd go three weeks early?" Tyra said.

Matt smiled. "He and Ken took off out of there without even leaving us the keys. We had to stay there until the next day when Ken came back to lock the place up." He was quiet for a moment. "That was a great spot. I'm going to miss it."

"Well it's yours now," Tyra said suddenly.

"What?" Matt and Julie said in unison.

"Tyra," Tim said, his voice low.

"What?" Tyra replied to Tim. "They're going to find out when the will is read anyway." She turned back to Matt and Julie. "Landry wanted you guys to have it if anything...well, you know..."

The cottage was worth more than their house in Dillon. It was a beautiful gift, and one Julie wished they didn't have to accept. "I thought he'd just leave everything to his parents," she said, still in shock.

Tyra glanced up at Tim, who looked irritated suddenly, then looked down at her hands. "I helped Landry make out his will last year. He made sure his parents were taken care of, and you two, of course. But most of it..." She looked over at Jake and then back to Julie. "Most of it is for Jake and Hannah. He would have given them the world."

Tim shook his head and stood up. He looked down at Tyra, then shook his head again. "I'm gonna get some fresh air," he mumbled as he walked out of the room.

Tears shone in Tyra's eyes and Julie couldn't help herself from welling up as well. "It's the right thing," she said, looking at Matt whose eyes were shimmering.

She wiped her eyes and laughed. Reaching out for the stereo remote, she changed tracks until she found an upbeat song. "Landry would call this a pitiful party!"

* * *

  
Jason watched his wife walk up the driveway in front of him. Her stance was tilted to one side, her arm weighed down with the infant carrier she carried. In her other hand, she gripped the little boy's hand—their son's hand—tightly.

The image was beautiful enough to make him cry.

Pausing at the bottom of the stairs leading to Matt and Julie's front door, Lyla turned, the obvious question unspoken on her lips.

"I'll go around back," Jason replied.

He'd been here before, and there was no easy way into Matt and Julie's split entry house. The land sloped downward on the backside of the house with a deck hanging off the main floor and a patio leading out from the basement door. If he wanted to go upstairs, he'd have to rely on someone to carry him up the steps. He hated having his disability on display that way, but he'd done it before, and it was important to be here to mourn the loss of Landry with their friends.

Preoccupied with thoughts of the last time they'd been here—just after EJ's christening when Landry sat in a deck chair until well after nightfall playing soft tunes on his guitar—Jason didn't notice the figure standing on the patio until he almost banged into him. He stopped and looked up. Right into the piercing eyes of Tim Riggins.

Jason's voice caught in his throat as he stared up at Tim. His face was so familiar, and yet Jason hadn't seen him in over three years. It had been too long. And it was all Jason's fault.

"Tim, I..." He didn't know what to say. What did you say to the man who used to know all your secrets, and now barely knew you at all?

"Are you the welcoming committee?" Jason finally choked out, trying to lighten the mood.

Tim looked away and stepped towards the rear of the deck, staring out over the backyard.

"Had to get some air," he mumbled.

Jason hesitated, looking at the basement door leading to the house, where Lyla would be expecting his help with the children...with their children.

Then he turned and rolled silently over to park next to Tim.

They stayed there in silence for a long moment, then Jason cleared his throat. "Look..."

But Tim interrupted him, his voice quiet in the soft evening air.

"I thought I was paying you back," Tim started. "When you got hurt, I was so mad. So mad at you, Jay." He looked down at Jason, his eyes slipping off Jason's face too quickly.

"I blamed you for everything. For leaving me alone. For abandoning me." Tim shook his head. "So stupid."

"Tim, I'm so sorry," Jason tried again. He reached up to brush his knuckles against the back of Tim's hand.

But Tim turned to the side, dropping away from Jason's reach.

"I've got a little girl. A little girl that's three years old and has never met her godparents. You think that's fair?"

Jason bowed his head away from Tim's penetrating stare. He deserved all Tim had to throw at him, but it didn't make it sting any less.

Tim turned again, staring out over the expanse of lawn, his hands tucked deep into his pockets. "I did the leaving back then, Six. You had nothing to do with it."

He looked down at Jason. Tim didn't need to say the words; Jason already knew what they were. This time around the blame fell squarely on Jason. And he didn't know how he could ever make it up to his friend.

"I'd like to meet Hannah, if you'd let me. Let us," Jason said quietly.

Tim nodded. "I think Tyra would like that."

"And you?" Jason pressed.

Tim was quiet, then he turned to face Jason full on. "I would have been there for you. I would have done anything to help you. And I needed you bad back then. I got a daughter you've never even met. And a little sister besides that. You think you can erase three years in one night?"

"No." Jason shook his head. "No I don't. But I'd like to start trying."

Tim bent over, his hands pressing hard against his knees. Slowly he lowered himself to the ground next to Jason, leaning back to support himself with his hands.

"I visit Jesse's grave every year," Tim said.

Jason couldn't take anymore. Tears dripped from his eyes, falling to his hands sitting useless in his lap. How could the pain still be so fresh? After all this time, and now with two little children to care for, how could he still mourn the son that never was?

"It hurts so bad, Timmy. I never even knew him, and it burns."

"I know, Six," Tim said quietly from his seat next to him. Slowly, he raised his hand up and tapped Jason's knee softly. "I know."

They sat in silence together—the kind of comfortable silence that you could only find with an old friend. Jason knew he'd had his reasons for shutting Tim out, but they seemed so insignificant now. This was the way things should be. This was the person he wanted to be his children's godfather.

"So I might have a couple of people for you to meet," Jason said.

The back door opening interrupted him. "Lyla was worried you got lost," Eric said as he stepped out onto the patio.

"Uh, sorry, Coach," Tim said as he stood up.

"Nice looking kids, Jason," Eric said as Matt walked out of the door behind him.

"Kids?" Tim asked.

Jason smiled. "I was just going to tell you." He grinned. "But I only found out about them a few days ago myself!"

Tim nodded, then a slow smile broke across his face. "You're gonna make a great father."

"Yeah, if I can ever get into the house."

"You need a hand?" Matt asked Jason.

"Yeah, sure," Jason replied. He glanced over at Tim as Matt grabbed onto the front of his chair and lifted it over the door jamb into the house. Tim reached under the backside of the chair to hold onto the frame there and they seemed to lift him effortlessly.

It wasn't much of reconciliation, but as Tim and Matt carried Jason up the stairs to the main floor, he smiled. He'd made the first step, and Tim hadn't shut him down. Maybe something good would come out of this horrible day after all.

* * *

  
"You have to let me hold that beautiful little baby," Tami said as she held her hands out to Lyla.

Lyla passed the baby over to Tami, who effortlessly slid the tiny baby into the crook of her arm.

"I'm a little afraid of her," Lyla said softly.

Tami looked down into the baby's sweet face, her mouth like a jewel, her eyes closed as she slept. "You'll know what to do," she replied, as she looked up and met Lyla's eyes with a smile.

"It's just I spent so much time trying to figure out how to get pregnant that I never spent any time on reading about what you need to do to be a good parent."

"Love your children," Tyra said as she sat down on the couch next to Tami. "Oh, Lyla—she's gorgeous."

Lyla looked down at the little girl, then up at Tyra. "And you have a daughter?" she said hesitantly.

Tyra's mouth formed a straight line, her jaw working beneath her skin. Finally she nodded, and raised her head to meet Lyla's gaze. "Was it worth it?" she asked, her voice riddled with pain.

Tears sprung to Lyla's eyes and she shook her head quickly. "No, no it wasn't," she replied as the tears spilled over onto her cheeks.

Reaching across Tami's lap where the baby lay, Tyra pulled Lyla into a hug. "I missed you," she whispered into her friend's ear.

Lyla felt the floodgates open up as she gripped tightly to Tyra. She had needed a good friend over the past three years. And it was stupid to have blocked Tyra from her life over something no one had any control over.

"I would really like to meet her," Lyla said, pulling back and wiping her eyes.

"You will," Tyra said, wiping at her own eyes. "I think she's with EJ."

Julie spoke up as the reentered the room. "Yeah, I brought Dylan up to the boys' room and Hannah took his hand right away. They're building a castle."

"I know Jason wants to meet her too. I should go find him," Lyla said as she stood up.

"I sent Dad and Matt down to find them," Julie responded.

Lyla sat back down and looked over at the baby. She had missed out on Tim and Tyra's baby both times around. She wasn't going to let them miss out on all of her daughter's firsts.

"So," Tami began as she lifted the baby up and held her against her shoulder. "Does this baby have a name?"

Lyla let out a light laugh and shook her head. "No. We talked about it all the way down here and we can't agree."

"I like Josie," Jason said as he wheeled into the room.

"And I like Amy," Lyla replied.

"How about Judy?" Eric said.

"Or Lucy?" Matt offered.

"Susie?" Smash added.

"No!" Jason and Lyla shouted together.

"Well I like Gabrielle," Tami said.

"Gabby Street?" Julie asked, wrinkling up her nose.

Lyla laughed and reached over to smooth down the baby's hair. "What is your name, little one?"

"Momma?" a small voice called out.

Lyla looked up at the tiny blonde girl standing in the doorway of the living room. She was looking around with wide eyes as if she couldn't find her mother in the crowd of people. But Lyla knew exactly who her mother was. The child looked like Tyra for all the world.

"Yes, baby," Tyra said, reaching out her arms as Hannah hurried over.

"There lots of boys and only one me. I want a little girl to play with."

Tyra laughed and hugged Hannah to her chest. "Well there's a little girl here," she said, pointing down at the baby. "Maybe you can play with her when she's a little bit older."

"What her name is?" Hannah asked.

Lyla smiled. "Well she's my little girl but she's brand new and we don't know what to name her yet. Do you have any favorite names?"

Hannah climbed down from Tyra's lap and walked around towards Lyla. She stared down at the baby as Tami held the child out for a better view. Finally, Hannah turned and looked up at Lyla.

"I have one name left. You can call it to her."

"She has a list of reserve names for her dolls," Tyra explained.

"Oh, I see," Lyla said, looking at Hannah seriously. "Can you tell me what it is?" She really hoped it wasn't Esmeralda or something. They would have a hard time explaining that one.

"Emma," Hannah said firmly. "Her name Emma." Then she turned to Tim. "You have cookies, Daddy?"

Everyone laughed as Tim bent down and swooped Hannah up into his arms. The sound of stomping feet could be heard as three little boys came charging downstairs into the living room.

"We want cookies!" EJ yelled, the obvious leader of the bunch. He ran over to Matt while Andrew attacked Eric's leg.

Lyla took in Dylan's flushed face, the look of apprehension painted there. Her heart ached as she watched the little boy stare around the room. Then pure peace filled her chest as Dylan slowly walked over to Jason and stood before him, waiting to be picked up.

"Come on up, buddy," Jason said, giving the child a hand. "Hannah was giving us a name for your sister. What do you think of Emma?"

Dylan shrugged and leaned further back against Jason's chest.

Lyla watched Jason's face carefully. "Emma?" she asked softly. Jason nodded.

"Emma," Lyla repeated softly, reaching out to take her daughter as Tami handed her back. It was perfect. Jason, Lyla, Dylan and Emma Street. Her family.

"Come on kids," Tami said, standing up. "Grandma knows where all the best cookies are kept."

Dylan scrambled down from Jason's lap to chase the other kids out to the kitchen. Lyla couldn't have been happier.

"Now this is what Landry would have wanted," Julie said, beaming at the crowd of old friends.

"Good friends and good memories," Smash added.

"It's been too long," Jason said, glancing up at Tim standing next to him.

"Yeah," Tim replied. "And then you go bringing a couple of kids into the mix. Way to warn us, Six."

"Hey, yesterday we thought we were getting one little girl," Jason said, smiling as he looked over at Lyla. "We were a little shocked ourselves."

"He's going to be a real heartbreaker," Eric said, clapping Jason on the shoulder.

"Probably," Jason said.

"You just make sure you keep your son away from my little girl, Streeter," Tim warned.

The room dissolved into laughter again. Grinning, Lyla leaned back into the couch and looked around. It felt so right to be back here again. Almost like they had never left. She only wished Landry could be here with them right now. It would never be the same without him.

* * *

  
Matt walked slowly back up the steps from the basement. The house was quiet—everyone had headed back to their hotel or parents' house for the night. He stopped to pick up a couple of paper plates that were sitting on the kitchen table where the kids had been eating earlier. He pressed the lever to open the lid to the garbage can and sighed. It was stuffed full of garbage from the evening. He loosened the bag from the can and pulled it out, tied it closed and set it on the floor.

Tomorrow was garbage day.

Tomorrow was Landry's funeral.

_"Hi, I'm Landry Clarke and I don't play football and my dad is a cop and I'm going to tour the world with Up With People when I'm older."_

_Matt just stared at the kid standing in front of him, his skin beat red and his hair no longer than an eighth of an inch. The U-Haul hadn't been in front of his grandma's house for more than twenty minutes._

_"I am more than happy to be your friend because I know it's hard to come to a new town and if you don't play football, it's going to be hard to break into things here," the kid said, hardly taking a breath between the words._

_"Uh, I play," Matt said quietly._

_"You?" Landry said. "You play football? I mean, cause you're kind of scrawny and I just didn't take you for a kid who'd play football."_

_"I played in Oklahoma," Matt explained._

_Landry looked him up and down. "What position? Cause you're clearly not on the offensive line. Wide receiver?"_

_"Quarterback," Matt replied quietly._

_"Oh," Landry replied. "Wow—that's too bad."_

_"Why?" Matt asked. Was this kid against quarterbacks?_

_"Oh, I mean, I'm sure you're real good and all, but Jason Street is only two years older than you and he's been first string since he started pee wees in the third grade. He started playing with the varsity squad in 8th grade, playing back-up to Tom Reed and Tom, he was real good, but a few times Jason even got to play in an actual game. Yeah, you better just get used to not playing very much at all. I mean, my dad says that Jason Street is going to be in the NFL someday."_

_Matt just stared at this weird kid._

_"So, you're pretty lucky cause I'm gonna be friends with you anyway," Landry added._

"You get anything written?"

Matt looked up to see that Julie had walked into the kitchen. He shook his head. She walked over and slipped her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his arm.

"You'll figure it out," she said. "Can I get you anything?"

Matt shook his head again. He wanted to explain to Julie how he was feeling, but how could he put into words how he felt about Landry. Julie was his wife and he loved her more than almost anything in the whole world.

But not as much as he loved his friend Landry Clarke. He just didn't think he'd be able to live without him.

* * *

  
Joanne Street was just finishing washing the supper dishes when she heard a car pull up in the driveway.

"They're here!" she called to her husband. She headed toward the front door and opened it up to reveal—Buddy Garrity.

"Oh, Buddy," she said as she wiped her damp hands on the towel she was holding. "I thought you were Jason and Lyla."

"Lyla called a couple of minutes to say they were on their way over and asked me to come over," Buddy explained as he walked into the living room.

"Can I get you something, Buddy?" Mitch asked as he walked into the room.

"Sure, Mitch," Buddy replied. "Some tea—or something stiffer if you have it."

Joanne used every ounce of restraint that she had to not roll her eyes. She hadn't seen the kids in months and Jason had been so mysterious on the phone. Something was clearly going on and she wasn't sure she needed the extra drama of Buddy Garrity around when Jason and Lyla got there.

"Damn shame about the Clarke kid," Buddy said as he accepted a bottle of beer from Mitch.

Mitch took a seat on the couch and set down the beer he had brought for himself. "It sure was—I saw Chad down at the bakery yesterday. He seemed like it hadn't really sunk in."

Headlights from Jason and Lyla's car flashed across the front window of the house. Joanne dropped her towel and reached for the door.

She pulled the door open and stepped out, then stopped.

"Oh!" she called as she raised her hand up to clap over her mouth. She wanted to rush over to the car, but she couldn't move.

Lyla was opening the back door and helping a little boy out of a car seat. There was another car seat next to the little boy's.

"Joanne?" Lyla called to her. "Can you give me a hand?"

Joanne nodded, still unable to speak. She walked down the sidewalk to the car where the little boy was standing next to the door. She knelt down next to him as Lyla opened up the hatch in the back of the car and pulled out Jason's wheelchair.

"I'm Dylan," the little boy said.

Joanne just looked at him. He was beautiful. She stared at his big eyes, his dark hair...

"Mom?"

She looked up to find Jason, in his chair, holding a baby in his arms. Lyla was standing behind him.

"Do you want to hold her?" he asked.

She nodded, holding out her arms to her son. She leaned in and took the baby from him. She was so small.

Joanne sank back down to the ground, next to the little boy, with the little girl in her arms. She looked up, first at Jason, then to Lyla and then finally to Buddy and Mitch who had come out and were standing on the front steps.

"Surprise," Lyla said as she smiled at them. "It's a boy..."

"And a girl," Jason finished.

"I'm Dylan," the little boy said again. "And that is my sister, Emma. Right?" He looked back to Lyla for confirmation, who nodded. Then Dylan tilted his head and stared back at Joanne. "Who are you?"

Joanne looked down at Emma sleeping in her arms and then at Dylan. "I'm your grandma," she said as she reached out to stroke the soft skin on his cheek. "I'm your grandma, Dylan."

_/tbc/_   


* * *

  
**Disclaimer** : All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.  
 **Authors' Note** : Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[**devilc**](http://devilc.livejournal.com/).


	8. The Funeral: Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[devilc](http://devilc.livejournal.com/). This is the end of the _Reunion_ trilogy. We started this story in February 2007 and have loved every moment of writing it. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

**Title** : The Funeral: Chapter 8  
 **Authors** : [](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/profile)[**shelbecat**](http://shelbecat.livejournal.com/) and [](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/profile)[**rachel_wilder**](http://rachel-wilder.livejournal.com/)  
 **Rating** : T (aka PG-13)  
 **Summary** : Continuing from _Reunion_ and _The Wedding_ , we follow our characters through the highs and lows of a five year span until we reach _The Funeral_.

**The Funeral  
Chapter 8**

  
_August, 2024_

Tim pushed open the door to their hotel room, balancing the tray of coffees in his hand. Gone were the days where he had to worry about twisting awkwardly on his bad knee, but juggling three coffees, an apple juice, and breakfast to go for him and Tyra was still difficult.

Jake poked his head out of the covers on his bed and looked sleepily over at Tim. "One of them for me?" he asked.

"Coffee stunts your growth," Tim replied, handing his son a paper cup anyway. Jake was almost as tall as Tim already, and still growing fast. He had all of Tyra and Tim's height combined. And was a damn fine tight end because of it.

"I saw Anne and Jade in the restaurant downstairs. Why don't you take Hannah down for breakfast?" Tim asked, pouring the bottle of apple juice in one of Hannah's cups.

"I need a shower," Jake said, rubbing his hand through his hair roughly.

Tim glanced at the closed bathroom door to make sure Tyra wasn't listening. "I need to talk to Mom." He handed Jake a wad of bills from his jeans pocket. "Make sure Hannah eats some fruit."

Jake looked like he was going to protest, but Tim knew his son couldn't resist a full plate of eggs and bacon. Truthfully, he'd rather eat a real breakfast down in the restaurant himself than munching on a muffin while he tried to talk to Tyra. But he wanted to clear the air with her.

"I am having pancakes with whipped cream," Hannah announced as Jake reached out for her hand.

Tim handed her the cup of apple juice. "And strawberries," he reminded Jake.

Jake nodded, still slurping his coffee to wake up. So much like his parents, Tim thought as he brought Tyra's coffee over to the bathroom door. It never failed to amaze him.

Knocking on the door, he only had to wait a second before Tyra opened it. She was freshly showered and wrapped in one of the hotel's robes. Her face was pink from the steam still clinging to the walls. For the first time since they had woken up to the terrible news, she looked fresh and revitalized. Like the way she looked when Landry was still alive.

"Where are the kids?" Tyra asked as she rubbed the towel against her wet hair.

"Jake took Hannah down to get something to eat. "

"I hope he doesn't just fill her up on sugar and carbs," Tyra said. "Did you get coffee?"

Tim handed her the steaming cup of coffee. "Anne was down there. I asked her to try and get both of them to eat a little fruit."

Tyra smiled and pulled a brush through her hair. "Thanks," she said, holding up the coffee cup before taking a sip. "I needed this."

"Yeah," Tim echoed, taking a sip of his own drink. He was quiet for a few minutes, watching Tyra work on her hair and makeup. Finally he cleared his throat. "So, about this will…"

Sighing, Tyra laid down her brush and picked up her coffee cup again. She cradled it against her chest as she turned to lean in the doorway. "Are you going to get past this, or what?"

Tim grew instantly defensive. "What? Get over Landry giving us a pile of money? What's to get over?"

"Tim," Tyra said, shaking her head. "I know you don't like the fact that this looks like we need a hand-out, or whatever. But that's not what it is. He was just trying to help us out."

"Yeah, well, we don't need his help," Tim replied, standing up to walk towards the window.

"No, we don't. But does it hurt us?"

Tim bit his lip, staring out the window at the city of Dillon sprawling before him ten floors below. He had worked hard to be able to provide for his family over the years. Hell, he had worked hard just to have a family at all, and wherever he turned Landry was there; with a bigger house, and more money, and the best gifts for Jake and Hannah at every birthday. Not to mention the tennis bracelet that Tyra was wearing today. Landry had given it to her on her last birthday. Tim had taken her out to dinner and bought her flowers. Landry commemorated the occasion with gold and diamonds.

"Does it?" he finally asked Tyra, turning to look back at her. Did Landry's money change who they were? They were still paying off their mortgage—the way Tyra made it sound, they would probably own their own home and Landry's too.

"Tim," Tyra said softly, crossing the room to stand before him. Her hand reached up to lie on his chest, the tennis bracelet resting around her wrist. "We can pay for Jake to go to whatever school he wants. Full ride. He won't have to worry about a scholarship, or finding a cheap apartment off campus. And there's a private school I'd like to look into for Hannah. She can have the best education we can give her."

"Landry can give her," Tim corrected.

Tyra pulled away slightly and followed Tim's gaze out the window. "I don't know about you, but I don't really feel all that nostalgic about growing up with nothing. I don't have those fond childhood memories about food stamps or free lunch or the ladies from church who used to bring presents at Christmas that were marked 'girl age 8' rather than with my name on them."

That was his worst fear—not being able to provide for his kids. Having to rely on handouts like his family had. And this was like admitting he couldn't provide for them. It was too hard.

"It's not like that for us," Tim replied.

Tyra nodded slightly and let a small smile cross her face. "And I know that. I love the life we've been able to make together for our kids, but Landry always knew how afraid I was about having to live like that again. It was hard at first—when Jake was little and Landry promised me that when he was famous I'd never have to worry again. He's just living up to that promise. Just let him do that for all of us.

"It doesn't have to change us," Tyra added, but she sounded unsure.

Tim reached out and pulled her close to his chest, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "Promise me it won't," he said into her hair.

"I promise," Tyra replied.

Her voice cracked as she spoke and Tim felt her body shake within his arms. She cried softly into his shirt, dampening the front with her tears. And Tim didn't care. He stood there silently and rubbed her back as she cried, tears filling his own eyes as well. Damn Landry anyway for going out and getting himself killed. Jake and Hannah could have the best money could buy, but it would never make up for not having Landry in their lives. Tim didn't care if they ever saw a cent of that money—he just wanted Landry back.

* * *

  
Buddy pulled his big SUV up in the driveway and shut it off. The Streets' house looked quiet.

The door opened and Lyla stepped out with the little boy—with little Dylan. Buddy picked up his sunglasses and slipped them on, then released his seatbelt and got out of the truck.

"Hey Daddy," Lyla said. "We're walking down to the park. You want to come with us?"

The little boy looked up at him—he almost seemed a little nervous and he was holding Lyla's hand tightly.

"That'd be nice, baby," he replied.

They walked down the street without saying much. It was going to be a hot day, but now it was pleasant with a light breeze. A good day for going to the park. He tried not to think about the funeral they all had to go to later.

They entered the playground and Lyla paused.

"Do you want to go play on the slide?" she asked Dylan.

Dylan nodded his head, but Buddy thought he still looked a little uncertain.

"Grandpa and I will be right here on the bench," she assured him. Dylan paused, then ran over to the slide and began climbing up the steps.

Grandpa. The word sounded foreign coming from Lyla's lips. Tabby had given him a granddaughter years ago, and Buddy Junior had had a son just last year. But Lyla, his eldest, had suffered so much. He thought it would never happen for her.

"Nice boy, honey," Buddy said as he sat down on the bench.

"Yeah," Lyla said as she sat down next to him.

Buddy was quiet, trying to figure out what to say. This was so sudden. Two more grandkids and no word at all about their parents. It was hard for him to take in.

"So, do you know much about him? Where he came from?"

Lyla cast a sidelong glance at him. "Does that matter?"

Buddy looked at his daughter and smiled. "You love him already, don't you?"

Lyla nodded. "I do—we do."

Buddy looked over where the little boy was climbing on the playground equipment. "I'm awfully happy for you, honey. But I do worry about you—it's a lot to have two little ones all of a sudden and if they came from a tough situation…" He only wanted the best for his daughter, but he worried about what she and Jason had taken on.

Lyla slid her hand in Buddy's. "We know it might not be easy, but we wanted a family—we wanted it so bad, Daddy."

"And I'm sorry Jason couldn't give you the babies you wanted, your own natural babies I mean," Buddy replied.

Lyla pulled her hand from Buddy's. "It wasn't just Jason, Daddy. I was the one who lost Jesse. I was the one who couldn't get pregnant again."

That wasn't what he had meant—he hadn't meant to say—oh, why was it so hard?

"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean…"

"I know, Daddy," Lyla replied. "It's just—it's just still a really sensitive thing, so I need to know that you are going to love Dylan and Emma just like you do the rest of your grandchildren."

Buddy nodded. "Of course, Lyla."

"Hey, Dylan," Lyla said as the little boy walked up to them. "What do you need?"

Dylan pointed at Buddy. "Can he help me on the swing?"

"I'm your Grandpa Buddy, son," Buddy replied. "And I am very good at pushing little boys on swings."

Buddy stood up and reached out for the little boy's hand. Dylan was hesitant at first, then slipped it into Buddy's big hand.

Families were made in many ways, that was true. And for now the thing that mattered more than anything was that Lyla finally had her family.

* * *

Julie's small hand slipped into Matt's and he looked down, surprised. He felt like he was floating above his body. Like this scene outside of the church that looked more like a mob than a group of mourners couldn't possibly be real. Couldn't possibly be for Landry.

"How you doin', son?" Eric's strong hand clamped down on Matt's shoulder.

He couldn't respond. If he opened his mouth to speak he'd cry.

"It's a hard thing," Eric continued, his eyes shielded behind sunglasses.

At his side, Tami pulled her arms tight across her body as if she were cold, but the sun was shining brightly. She pressed one hand to her mouth.

"All these people," she said. "Landry touched a lot of lives."

"A lot of people thought he touched their lives," Matt scoffed.

"Ah, come on now, son," Eric said. "You know he always wanted people to know his name."

Matt tried to smile but he was sure it came out more like a grimace. Eric was right though—Landry had come a long way from high school when Coach Taylor never could get his name right.

"What was it you called him?" Julie asked.

Eric's face took on a blank look like he had no clue about what they were talking about.

"Oh yeah, you never could get his name right, hon," Tami said.

"I knew his name," Eric said, defensively.

"Oh come on, you always called him Larry or something, right?" Julie asked.

"Lance," Matt said beneath his breath.

"What?" Julie and Tami asked in unison.

Matt looked up, glancing out at the crowd of strangers flooding towards the church. The group who only knew Landry Clarke, Superstar. Not Landry Clarke, simple small-town boy.

"You called him Lance," Matt said to his father-in law. "He used to say 'I always knew I was invisible'." At the memory, Matt smiled, then felt a choking feeling rushing through his chest. He was not going to cry out here in the parking lot. He owed it to Landry to get through his service in one piece and deliver a eulogy fitting of his friend.

Tugging on Julie's arm, he turned towards the steps. Tami and Eric followed behind them. An usher led Matt and Julie to the very front of the church where Tyra, Tim and Jake were already sitting on one end of the front pew, with Landry's parents down at the other end. Matt look a seat beside Chad Clarke, avoiding looking at the man's tear-stained face.

The pastor began the service almost immediately and Matt was thankful for things getting started. Beside him he felt Landry's father shake with emotion, but he tried to keep strong. Too soon his name was being called to read the eulogy. Slowly, he made his way up the carpeted steps to the pulpit. The church was packed wall-to-wall

Every spare space was filled by someone who wanted a piece of Landry—by a reporter or fan or someone who claimed to be mourning the loss of someone they only knew from the media.

What a joke.

Clearing his throat, he reached into his breast pocket for the cards with his eulogy on it. It was pathetically short. Facts and statistics to describe a person that words could never do justice to. He glanced up quickly, catching Julie's eye as she stared at him from her seat in the front pew. She smiled and nodded, just slightly. Confidence. He could do this.

Leaving the cards in his pocket, he gripped the sides of the pulpit with his hands and stared out over the crowd. He recognized a few faces, Tim, Tyra and Jake sitting with Julie and Landry's parents in the front pew. Coach and Tami, Jason and Lyla, Smash and his mother. Landry's band mates and manager. People who knew and loved him.

He focused on those few faces as he began to speak.

"Many of you may not know me, and I think that's because many of you don't know the real Landry Clarke. Sure he was a member of _Hometown Hero_ , and he played in your stadiums and sat for your interviews. But I knew him before he was somebody special, back when he was just a pimply-faced kid that didn't fit in…back when he was special to all the people that mattered.

"Landry's greatest dream was to be somebody, to matter to someone. A long time ago, when he first moved to Nashville and started playing with his band, he told me that it was finally happening. He was finally going to matter to somebody outside of Dillon."

Matt paused to compose himself.

"But he already mattered to someone far more important. He called me one night; this was a few years ago, just after our 10-year Reunion. It was late, like 3 AM—Landry always got straight As in high school but he could never figure out the time zones when he was traveling."

A low laugh rippled through the crowd.

"He called and he told me, 'Matty, I think my girl's in love.'"

Matt looked down at Tyra sitting in the front pew, her head buried against Tim's shoulder.

"And you weren't his girl, Tyra. You were never really his, and he knew that. And he loved you anyway. He loved you and Jake so much and for so long you were family he'd always wanted to have. I think playing Dad, being a stand-in dad before Tim came back into your life, was one of his greatest accomplishments. And for you all to keep him in your life, for so long…that made him matter more than anything else. That made him happy."

Tyra's body shook with sobs and Matt watched as Tim pulled her closer to his chest. Matt felt like crying right along with her. It was too hard to think about why he was up here saying these words.

Reaching back into his breast pocket, he rifled past the cue cards until his fingers closed over a photograph. He pulled it out and stared at it for a moment. It had been taken almost 18 years ago, at the start of their sophomore year when Landry had come to pick Matt up for his first football practice. Matt's grandmother had wanted to capture the moment—the moment her baby would become a football star.

Landry's face was wrinkled up, his eyes squinted in that perennial way he always had of smiling back then. Matt looked bored, standing just close enough to Landry to fit in the frame. Behind them sat the old station wagon—the closest thing they had to freedom back then. He held the picture tight in his hand and looked out at the crowd again.

"You know, Landry always joked that he was my sidekick. Could never get out of the shadow of Matt Saracen, QB1." Matt looked down at Jason who smiled and nodded his head.

"He had to come to that 10-year football reunion as my guest. They even printed it on his name tag." Matt smiled for the first time since he started speaking. "Don't think he let me live that one down."

He looked back down at the picture; at Landry staring back up at him. "But Landry didn't play second-fiddle to anyone. He was always the talker. If he were here right now he'd have you laughing in the aisles over some high school memory, probably involving a few too many beers."

The crowd laughed lightly again, but Matt felt tears rise in his throat instead. He shook his head and tried to push out his last words. "He was never my sidekick; I was his. And I would've been happy to live in his shadow for the rest of my life. Landry was just that kind of guy. He never made you feel small, or any less than what you were. Instead, you just felt happy that he was your friend. And you smiled. He made you smile.

"I'm going to miss him. I'll miss my friend." Matt looked up at the ceiling, smiling through the tears dripping down his face. "And don't think we don't all know that you're lovin' every minute of this. Going out like Buddy Holly. You had to find some way to get one last joke in. I love you, Landry. Thanks for the memories. Thanks for being my friend."

* * *

Smash looked down the long table spread with food and sighed. Where was it written that you had to gain 10 pounds during a funeral?

Apparently somewhere in the Church Ladies handbook because there was enough food in the church hall to feed a small army.

Shaking his head, he piled a roll on top of his already crowded plate and headed off to find a seat. He might as well join the masses and drown his grief with food—Landry would find it hysterical if all his friends gained weight because of this.

"Hey, Smash, anything good up there?"

Jason wheeled up next to him just as he found an empty chair.

"Oh man," Smash replied, tipping his plate slightly. "Only if you count three different kinds of fried chicken as good. I am going to have to hit the gym hard after this week."

Jason laughed. "You still working out all the time? Keeping busy?"

Smash shrugged and scooped a forkful of coleslaw into his mouth. "You know, old habits I guess. Kind of hard not having something to train for, but I can't give it up."

He'd made the decision to retire at the end of last season on his own accord. A lot of people had written him off a few years back when he went in for rehab. But he'd been able to bounce back from that, through no small amount of hard work, and a hell of a lot of sweat and tears. The Houston Texans were no New York Giants; not even a shot at the playoffs, let alone the two Super Bowl rings he had won in New York, but there was less pressure to excel. And that was exactly what he had needed to finish out his career.

"You ever think about coaching? Or playing arena ball?" Jason asked.

"Nah," Smash replied. "I don't have the patience for coaching, and arena isn't really my style. I had the limelight once, never really did me any good."

"Come on now, you've got to miss it a little."

Smash smiled. "You fishing for a certain answer here, Street, or what?"

"I'm fishing for someone to front our new campaign. We're trying to get into twice as many schools this year, showcase the foundation and encourage kids to apply…and parents to donate. We could use a famous face."

"Even one from the Texans?"

"Everyone remembers the Giants' years; you're too hard on yourself."

Smash shook his head. It was hard to remember the years before drugs had almost stolen his career away. He'd been flying—on booze, women (in public), men (in private)…and the drugs. It was a fast life and it had burned him out. He wasn't sure he was ready to put his face back out there.

"Think about it," Jason said, backing away. "No pressure, but it does pay pretty good."

Smash laughed as Street moved off towards Lyla. One thing he didn't need was the pay check; he'd been smart enough to save money for his eventual retirement. But maybe it would be good to share his story with kids, show them that you could overcome any obstacle if you tried hard enough.

Looking down, Smash pushed his plate away and stood up. If he was going to preach about hard work and discipline, he had to start with himself. Tomorrow, he was back on the diet.

* * *

  
Tim set his plate and coffee cup down on the counter in the kitchen. He could hear someone in the Sunday School room next door. He took a couple of steps to check it out—it sounded like Jay.

"Okay, I know we can do this. Oh, don't cry little girl."

"You need some help?" Tim asked as he stepped in the room. Jason was sitting in front of one of the lower tables with Emma on a blanket in front of him.

"Uh…yeah, maybe," Jason replied. "I know I should be able to do this, but it's not the best set up and I'm afraid she might roll off before I can get the new diaper on her with these mitten hands of mine."

Tim smiled and eased over to the table where Emma lay, her wet diaper lying open underneath her. He pulled up one of the little chairs and sat down.

"Well, the first thing to know is that you're lucky she's a girl. She's much less likely to squirt you while you get the new diaper on. These new diapers are also easier to use because you get more than one try to get them on in the right spot."

"You sound like an expert, Riggins."

"Many nights of practice, Street." Tim looked at Jason seriously. "Many, many nights."

Jason laughed. "A hands-on dad, I love it!"

Tim laughed and reached to shift Emma slightly on the blanket. "First, let's get her off this diaper," he instructed. "Can you take her feet with your right hand?"

Jason cupped his hand around Emma's little feet, his fingers on this hand working a bit better.

"Okay, now lift her and then pull the old diaper out with your left hand."

Jason lifted her up a bit and managed to pinch his thumb and finger around the wet diaper and pull it out.

"We'll deal with that later," Tim said as the diaper fell to the floor. Tim reached for the wipes and handed one to Jason. "Okay, take this and wipe her. You want to go from front to back."

Jason carefully wiped Emma. "Okay, now what?"

Tim pulled out a new diaper. "Okay, you need to get these tabs open."

Jason tried to get his stubborn fingers around the small tab so he could loosen it from the diaper. "This isn't going to work."

"Use your teeth," Tim advised.

Jason lifted the diaper and easily pulled the tabs loose on each side using his teeth.

"Okay, so lift her up again and get the diaper down under her," Tim explained.

This was going to be the hard part. He watched as Jason carefully lifted the baby up and then pushed the diaper underneath the baby. Emma just stared at both of them with her big dark eyes.

"She's not going to break, Six."

"You sure?" Jason asked.

Tim laughed. He remembered going through all this with Hannah when she was first born. He thought he was going to break her every time he tried to pick her up. It took a while to find that comfort zone with such a delicate thing.

"Nah, she'll be fine. She'll cry…a lot. And she won't sleep…a lot."

"Sleepless nights with Hannah?" Jason asked.

"Only…" Tim paused to look at his watch. "Three years worth, I guess?"

"Oh man," Jason replied, shaking his head.

"Nah, you don't mind that much. They're real cute when then finally fall asleep on you," Tim said, grinning. "But don't tell Tyra that. Emma's going to give her baby fever!

"Now let's get this diaper on her before the girls come in and try to tell us how to do this. You got this, Street. Lift the front up with your left hand and then bring the tabs in," Tim instructed.

Jason focused on the little tab. Tim could tell that he was willing his fingers to close around the little tab.

"Dammit," Jason said as he lost the tab again.

"Careful," Tim said. "You don't want her picking up bad habits."

Jason slowly pulled the tab forward again, concentrating until finally he was able to press it into the front of the diaper closing the side. "One down, one to go," he said.

"Jason?"

Both men turned their heads at the sound of Lyla's voice outside.

"Okay, get the other side before she comes," Tim coached Jason. "You'll get major brownie points if you're already changing diapers."

"Jason?" Lyla called as she walked in the room. "Oh, here you are."

Tim finished snapping the grippers on the bottom of Emma's dress and picked her up,

"You catch a dirty diaper?" Lyla asked. "Of course I'm sure you're an expert with little girls now, Tim."

Tim smiled down at baby Emma's face, then stood up and slid her into Jason's waiting arms.

"I didn't change the diaper. I just coached," Tim explained.

"You did it?" Lyla asked Jason, a look of confusion crossing her face.

Jason held the baby to his chest while Tim helped him with the clips on the baby front carrier. "I did."

He looked up at Tim and smiled. "I had a good instructor."

* * *

Tami leaned in and gave Lyla a long hug.

"Just remember it doesn't need to take a major life event for us to get together," she said as she stepped back from Lyla. She leaned down and gave Jason a light kiss on the cheek and brushed her fingers across the soft hair of a sleeping baby Emma, tucked in the Snugli Jason was wearing. "And I'm going to need to spend more time with these children."

"Tyra suggested we all come back for Homecoming this year," Lyla replied.

"And I think the foundation might have some big news coming soon," Jason added. "We might have to have a big party to announce our latest effort."

"I saw you talking to Smash," Eric stated. "I think starting a substance abuse program is a great idea, Jason and Smash is the perfect person to work with you."

"At what point do you stop being the football captain?" Tami asked.

Jason just smiled and shook his head. "That's not it," he added.

"It's a good thing, Jason," Tami replied. "You take good care of your friends."

"Okay, I've got one sleeping child in the car," Lyla said as she unclipped the side clasp on the baby carrier. Let me get this little one in her seat and we'll be on our way."

She lifted the baby from the carrier, trying not to wake her.

"You headed out?" Tim asked as he walked up to the group next to Jason and Lyla's car.

"Yeah," Jason said. "Lyla's mom is coming back from Alaska tonight and we want to catch her at the airport in Dallas. When are you headed back?"

Tim shrugged. "I'm not quite sure. Tyra has to handle a couple of things with Landry's parents and the estate, but we need to be back in Nashville by next week for the memorial service up there."

"You have time to spend the night on the way back?" Jason asked.

Tim fixed his eyes on his friend, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. We do." He took Jason's outstretched hand in his, leaned in and hugged his friend. "We'll call you."

Jason transferred into the car. Lyla finished putting Emma in her car seat and came around to get Jason's wheelchair. As she opened the back of the hatch in the car, Jason rolled down his window.

"I've tried to avoid it for years, but I guess it's time to get that minivan," he said.

Eric chuckled and nodded his head. "It's worth it," he replied.

"Absolutely," Tim echoed.

With another wave, Lyla put the car in gear and they headed out of the parking lot toward Dallas.

"Where is Tyra?" Tami asked, looking around at the people walking toward their cars.

Tim pointed toward the rear of the church. "She's talking to Julie and Matt—making some plans for tonight, I think."

"You take care of her," Tami said.

"Of course, ma'am," Tim replied.

"Come see us next time you come through," Eric said as he clapped his hand on Tim's shoulder.

"And you're invited to come see us in Nashville any time," Tim responded.

"Homecoming," Tami said as she reached up to give Tim a hug. "We should all come."

"We'll need a bigger house!" Julie said as she neared the group.

Matt smiled and wrapped his arm around Julie's waist. "We can always rent out that cabin again."

"Ew," Julie replied, wrinkling her nose. "It was good for us, but I have seen enough of that deer to last me a lifetime!"

Tyra smiled as she leaned against Tim's side. "Ready to go?" she asked.

"Yeah," Tim replied. "Jake's got Hannah in the car already. We should feed her before she gets too cranky."

"And then sleep," Tyra added. "Lots of sleep."

"You take care of yourself," Tami said, leaning in to hug Tyra. "And you call me if you need anything…anything at all."

Tyra nodded.

Tami turned to Julie and pulled her daughter tight into her arms. "Sorry we have to leave so soon."

"Thanks for staying the whole time," Julie replied, burying her face into her mother's shoulder.

"Of course, hon.

For Landry…" Tami took a deep breath and shook her head. "No more tears, right?" she said, looking from Julie to Tyra.

"No more tears, Mrs. T," Tyra replied.

"Landry wouldn't want it," Julie added.

"Okay, well we should hit the road," Eric said.

He shook hands with Matt and gave Julie a hug. "You tell EJ and Andrew that Grandpa will call tonight. And they better be asleep!"

Matt laughed. "Right! They only listen _to_ you, it doesn't work if I threaten them!"

Eric smiled and climbed into the car.

Tami looked around one last time at Tim and Tyra, and Julie and Matt. This week had been tough on them, it had been tough on all of them. But she knew they would be okay. There were bonds of friendship here that ran deeper than distance, deeper than time and separation. They were going to make it through this together.

And that's what Landry would have wanted. For them all to be together.

"Take care," she called as she slid into the car. She stared behind her as the church faded into the distance until she finally couldn't see Julie and everyone standing outside.

Eric reached over and placed a hand on her leg, squeezing gently.

"You okay?" he asked.

Tami smiled, pausing to make sure she didn't cry as she replied. "I will be," she finally said. "We all will."

_/fin/_   


* * *

  
**Disclaimer** : All characters who appear in these stories belong to their respective creators, including Imagine Entertainment, NBC Universal Television Studio and Film 44.  
 **Authors' Note** : Thanks once again to our fabulous beta, [](http://devilc.livejournal.com/profile)[**devilc**](http://devilc.livejournal.com/). This is the end of the _Reunion_ trilogy. We started this story in February 2007 and have loved every moment of writing it. Thanks for coming along for the ride.


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